An easel stands in candle light
Young maidens sit without gesture
Pure, like the repose of Eve in Eden
Eyes with the power of the stars
Guilt, shame, and sin has not happened
No acting, no projection, no splits
The fire of purity in stark reality
Blues like heaven itself, white light
Mystical perfection, virtue, innocence
Sexuality without sin, beauty so sincere
To paint the soul before the fall
Show life without pretense and masks
Clothing like creation itself
Put into space in eternal beauty
Ideals so lofty, so simple and sincere
Lips that give Eve's first kiss
Hands that touch with pure tenderness
Symmetry in mathematical wonder
Everyday life in profound infinity
Vermeer, did you see angels?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem