A Prince On The Road Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

the solid pavement of the cobblestones,
after the fresh rain, is still shining
tracks of puddles on roadsides.

and in the middle frogs
are jumping and the snail is slowly trudging
in a minute motorcyclist

he is braking hard and he lies.
on cobblestones like long and the pale.
in a minute he is rising and he is saying

I could not differently.
and perhaps, there somebody was,
under a spell, as you?

and so, I met the prince...