The Art of Love

  Yes,I can bear you not for once,but forever.

  I can sit and turn my face as you wish

  But it never bring my heart.

  Let's sit near the window as married people

  Use,look a half hour;

   But I can't be your model,I can't smile;

   I have forgotten to smile.

   Its true, I can't get your art

   It is a mere thing,Art !

   I know, you can see what at bottom

   Of your heart, never of my heart.

    I know you are perfect with your art

    But failed with your love.

    The glorious time in France you had,

    It was me that spoiled your golden time.

    Or you may become a trio

   With the great Rafael and Angelo.

   I loved you,not your art

   I want your soul not your mind

   Which only thinks of the Colours.

   It is me Andrea; Lucrezia,your beloved

   Not a white canvas which can take

   All the colours as you wish .

   It is my heart, my broken heart,

   Not your pencil with which you

   Can do the magic of perfection.

   You loved me, not more than your art.

   You made a world  of colours;

   And it was of black.

   You know, sadness is an ugly disease

   To which I am fighting with.

    You know the art of colours.

    And you never tried to know the

    Art, the true art of Love.

    In the world of love,there are

    So much to see, but you were blind.

    I tried to cure the heavy sadness,

    And remained blank in all my ways.

   I must go, my love waits outside,

    My true love............

SHIFA

1st MA ENGLISH