The long fermata, an artist’s feather,
with every subtle touch, it caresses the air;
Such light air breathes, of joyful wisdom,
the scent of lavender, calm and fair;
Beauty of Demeter, in autumn she gifts,
of golden leaves, and flourishing honey;
Praise thy nature, shall we not rejoice?
of work of life, an eternal affair.
The long fermata, an artist’s feather,
with every subtle touch, she caresses the air;
Such light air breathes, of rosary sorrows,
when Luna rises, she hears silent tears;
Persephone my child, how sinful such deed!
be fruit autumn gifts, yet winter it sees;
Oh dear lonely child, your voice they hail the earth,
it shatters the mortal hearts, of life of art.
