Everything in it is harmony, everything is wonderful, Everything is above the world and passions She rests shyly In its solemn glory She looks around herself She has no rivals, no friends Our beauties pale circle In her radiance disappears. Wherever you are in a hurry, At least for a love date, Whatever kind of heart you feed You are a secret dream, — But when you meet her, confused, you Suddenly you stop involuntarily, Reverently worshipfully In front of the shrine of beauty. | Anything