The singer

In the dim light of the golden lamp

The singer stands and sings.

And the songs rise up like coloured bubbles

Or birds with shining wings.

And the movement of the merry or plaintive keys

Sounds in the silent air

Till the listener feels the room no more

But only music there.

But still from the sweet and rounded mouth

The delicate sounds arise

Like floating bubbles whose colours are

The coloured melodies.