The lyricist turned his gaze
beyond a window made of dreams
he drank cider and mingled words
as if they were the colors of a fresco.
The lonely and lost lyricist
with its weary melancholies
he wrote with India ink
of love, wisdom and life.
The musician looked surprised
from the alchemy of a similar poet
he found the chord and straight to the brain
the melody stole every secret.
The musician master of notes
he composed there and then on a staff
and the union of music and words
carried a beautiful song in the air.
Now you can look far
a song can be born like this
a meeting of sincere minds
the musician and the lyricist.
the lyricist asks the musician
to give strength to his words …
… the musician asks the lyricist
to give voice to his melody.