Gaba Kulka - Lady celeste

Lady Celeste's grown quarrelsome and sad
She's of no use at a hunt or a ball
Sleepy and sulky and crimson-silk clad
She's been avoiding us all
Lady Celeste's grown silent and reserved
She's turned into a still life trompe-l'oeil
No one can tell if she really is there
Or is it sunlight at play
Lady Celeste's grown vicious and unkind
Jeering her beauty, position and wealth
All day just watching her shadow in the sun
Plotting against herself
She says:
Bring me the heads of those who broke into
The garden and stole the apples from the cherry tree
Bring me the heads of those who drained
My fountain and left dead petals on the bottom
My dead petals on the bottom