Asta

Oh, put her up to beauty!

It loses it’s meaning

She shines bright as a star

All will notice her passing

None doubt she’ll go far

Like her mother,

She is fair in every manner

Like her father,

She carries her family’s banner

Clothed in light she stands

Under the sun she was born

Raised in wealthy lands

Which have seen no forlorn

She lacks in nothing

She is her Father’s pride

How can one as she

Be described with words?

I tell you, not the most

Clever spoken poet could

Put her into words

Asta, Asta they call you

But to your loving father

You will always be Estralita

His little star

Shine bright for the World!”