A painting does not smile,
Mona Lisa does not smile
she merely mirrors our joy
that has roots in our heart

Goya’s Maja, the Duchess of Alba,
Is neither a nude nor in robes,
Her both forms lie within our thoughts

Can a cartoon laugh or mock at us,
perhaps not, does it have a language of its own?
In our tongues we merely laugh and mock at us

We see whatever we wish to see
we speak whatever we wish to speak
we love whatever we wish to love
we hear whatever we wish to hear

The nature speaks in the language
both you and I know, all is known and nothing is strange