And you are like a painting that came alive, But, tell me - what artist has painted you? My soul is spinning with yours in a dance, while you seem To color my life in the vivid bright scheme.   She’s cold as ice, my Muse For me, she mostly sings the blues She beckons and calls skillfully Her palms are of art’s the epitome.

Please, tell me, what you think about? About love or charming flowers? When moonlit night become the day I promise, all will as you say

And looking at her discreet smile, As she listens to me play the piano. I feel her pleasure, her whisper, her breath. And I’m ready to play for her again and again.( until death )

She's ready!