Blue French, Red English

And here I am, sitting in my chair, looking at messages
sent by the Troll Interpol about crimes and nothing divine,
too tired to concentrate having gone to bed too late, I heard
other poetic whispers and knew temptation strong to waive
the work and go along to listen to your beautiful song

This afternoon, I am going to indulge in your magical tales
of feeling, passion and happiness relayed in your unique
words and lyrical verse, right now I'm in the Troll Inter-
pol's clutches tight, cannot converse on pain of death, my
dwarf colleagues are forging ahead, I am lagging behind

My mind held in thrall by the lovely delights you represent in
enticing tales, please bear with this prisoner who cannot es-
cape, the Troll Interpol is waiting impatiently to decide the
fate of these miscreants, I must translate dark messages from
blue French into red English

Feel my spirit fleeing to you while body and mind remain tethered
to my chair, working away, quietly, in cold Translation Tower all
day... though I shall steal glances at everything you send, I can-
not reply in kind - otherwise I shall never finish my work today...