Two eyes that swivel round on stalks to watch the lady as she walks and a heart that jumps through rings to see
beauty,
the beast in me grows deep inside,
the saint died long ago.

She makes reflections envy her
her beauty shines from everywhere
the beast crawls deeper in his lair and
on the first step of the staircase
another saint appears to me,
a heart that jumps through hoops to see
beauty.