The one muse I know
Makes my inspiration come and go
In forms of various shadows and light.
Ah, the one muse is my highest delight.
When you see me talking to you
It is only because I see her too.
The other women walking nearby
Were surprised when I turned to them with a cry
And a greeting, with excitement in my voice.
But no, you weren’t the one, you weren’t my choice;
She was in the shadows and saw
All the shadows I spoke to:
She saw the two of us speaking: myself and you.
She, my highest delight, my muse, was quietly nearby
When I greeted you with a smile and a cry.