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The Lottery

de Peter von Poehl

The beautiful Elisabeth
Dachs by her feet and spirits rising high
A falcon and the whitest dove
With St. Martin's luck
And a taste for courtly love
“One minute more
She said, and asked
“Isn't it strange that even death
Wears a mask.
If it's to go where young hearts break
Then I'm too old
And I've made too many mistakes
The beautiful Elisabeth
Dachs by her feet and spirits rising high
With secrets not to be revealed
You have my word
They wear the wind's golden seal

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