To you, ever-changing god, I pray!
Oh, that you, the soul of passion,
The heart of music, the eye of art,
Would direct your rays to me,
That you would grace my searching thoughts
With the fleeting glance of inspiration!
Oh, Apollo, beautiful, desperate luminary,
You magnet of metaphors,
You synopsis of symbols!
How much ink have you swallowed in your long days,
How many chords have your holy ears heard?
The most wretched of us humans,
Artists, Musicians, Poets,
We sing your praises, day and night.
Can you not hear our strained voices,
Our devastated pleas?
How many hours have we not spent searching,
looking,
praying,
wishing,
hoping
For you!
Because, knowing of your inexistence,
We can't help but depend on your absence.
You are our blue flower,
Our promised land,
Our holy grail.
And we will not let you go,
Unless you bless us.