Joyeux Anniversaire à ma soeur!

For Bria - of this day the queen:
Ah, she has eyes of purest green,
   Her teeth are nothing if not white,
   Her soft, sweet smile a fair delight;
Her cheeks are like a nectarine.

This lass, with hair of golden sheen,
I pray this verse does not demean;
   Or else my own cheek I would smite
      For Bria!

For on this day, with rapture seen
By rich, by poor, by those between,
   I do not wish to place a blight,
   Be it great or be it slight,
But wish an overjoyed nineteen
      For Bria!