The palace under the water
Keeps a hidden treasure box
That makes beads of silver
Into the dome of the palace
That becomes a feast of fun
For the finny faeries.
The palace under the water
Keeps a hidden treasure box
That makes beads of silver
Into the dome of the palace
That becomes a feast of fun
For the finny faeries.
The massive hands, mounting forte
The delicate touch, teasing pianissimo
The untamed passion, a lover’s whispers
Descend on her like great furious waves,
Pound on her like wild tropical torrents
And fill her trembling fear of rapture
In the force of music with pleasure.
Blow high, blow low
Clouds above, clouds below
The divine horse sired by
The west wind flies in the sky
Across the Milky Way
Above the weariless sun
And waxing moon in wonders
With which the heaven is chimed
For those colorful charms,
Those dazzling deeds,
Those sweet smiles,
Those thousand praises –
He is what he is not,
Clothed in all those
Goodly falsehoods.
She untangles the threads
from Ariadne’s Ball
and spins them in strands
of lovely colors onto the Wheel
of Fate holding Pandora’s Box
she has purloined from gods
to weave them into a new fate.
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