Book: The tale of the dead Princess and the seven knights

Wind, wind! You are powerful,
You're chasing a flock of clouds,
You care about the blue sea,
Everywhere wafted in the open,
Not afraid of anyone,
But God alone.

For a long time the king was inconsolable,
But how can that be? and he was a sinner;
A year has passed like an empty dream,
The king married another.

To wait she wanted
Before lunch; not tolerated,
In the hands of an Apple picked
To cherry lips raised,
Slowly bite
And a piece of swallowed...
Suddenly she, my soul,
Shaken not breathing,
White hands lowered,
The ruddy fruit has dropped
Zakatilis eyes
And it is under the image
Head on the bench fell
And silent, motionless became...

Light my mirror! tell me
Yes, the truth reported:
I only weapon in the fairest of them all,
All ruddy and whiter?