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
