And when the Chopin Nocturne ends
And the last note says: "Goodbye" . . .
Where does the golden beauty go?
Does it really ever die?
If I could trace a melody of Mozart to its source,
I'm sure that I would find my own soul.
Of what Utopia does Mozart speak?
He turns me into a dreamer of golden dreams
When the saint looks upward
And sees what he can see,
His soul knows only silence
And leads to ecstasy.