January 9, 2005All complete
The Devil, in my lofty room,
This morning came to visit me
And trying hard to catch me out,
He told me: "I would like to know,
Amongst all of the lovely things
That make up her unique allure
Among the objects black and pink
That give shape to her charming form,
Which is the sweetest." - Oh my soul!
You answered straight the Hated One:
"Since in her everything is ravishing,
There's nothing there can be preferred.
As each thing moves me, I know not
If one seduces more than all the rest
She dazzles like the blazing Dawn
Consoles me like the restful Night;
The harmony is too sublime,
That governs all her body fair,
For powerless analysis
To note each of its sweet accords.
O mystic metamorphosis
Of all my senses melted into one!
Her very breath is made of song,
Just as her voice becomes perfume!