You say that I am beautiful and wise,
A golden dream with haunting grey-blue eyes,
A slender birch tree whiter than the moon,
A wild and lovely half-remembered tune,
A Renaissance Madonna with a smile,
A graceful gypsy innocent of guile,
A vision, neither phantom nor quite real.
How marvellously you tell me how you feel!
My dear, I’m sure some other girl will love it,
But I have heard it all before, so shove it.

1962