You are a baby's first cry,
You are love to the ones who need
You are life when it's time to die
You are a farmer's first seed.
You are passion as high as the sky
You set the innocent free
You are all magical wonders in one
You are ecstasy.

His words pacify my thoughts
Painting my busy mind an angelic shade of white
Upon me, he cast his spell
Gave me wings, a halo and set me to flight.

He walked up to his Piano with a smile
Within a minute, I could feel chills down my spine
The way he threw his head back
The way his fingers explored those white keys so fine

Lost in a trance, tears run down my eyes
My wish has come true because of him
Instead of crying because I am weak or meek
My tears I have devoted to music, my loyal mate.

How humble, how naive, how passionate
Despite the surrounding drama and his oscar fame
Words, he doesn't use them much
And to his enigmatic freshwater ocean of Music,
I am a happy slave.

Ignite my soul
Welcome my pleas
Smirk at my grief
Steal it all away, please.
Excite my skin
Invite me to kin
Show me how scary life can get
Steal it all away, please.
Dance around me while I sob
Employ my sorrow
Pay me for each teardrop I shed
Steal it all away, please.
Pleasure my senses
Unleash my beast
And just when I think I need to cry
Steal it all away from me, please.

In the rapture of life and of living,
I lift up my head and rejoice,
And I thank the great Giver for giving
The soul of my gladness a voice.
In the glow of the glorious weather,
In the sweet-scented, sensuous air,
My burdens seem light as a feather
They are nothing to bear.

In the strength and the glory of power,
In the pride and the pleasure of wealth
(For who dares dispute me my dower
Of talents and youth-time and health?) ,
I can laugh at the world and its sages
I am greater than seers who are sad,
For he is most wise in all ages
Who knows how to be glad.

I lift up my eyes to Apollo,
The god of the beautiful days,
And my spirit soars off like a swallow,
And is lost in the light of its rays.
Are tou troubled and sad? I beseech you
Come out of the shadows of strife
Come out in the sun while I teach you
The secret of life.

Come out of the world – come above it
Up over its crosses and graves,
Though the green earth is fair and I love it,
We must love it as masters, not slaves.
Come up where the dust never rises
But only the perfume of flowers
And your life shall be glad with surprises
Of beautiful hours.
Come up where the rare golden wine is
Apollo distills in my sight,
And your life shall be happy as mine is,
And as full of delight.

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!

I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams,
I bring you my passionate rhyme.