Come la amore, come to the Bar,*

Come, la amore,
Isabel mine,
Now that the eve has dropped
Upon us, so quite, so soft,
And now that i can see,
You art there,
Catching the song,
The tune of our Love, long,
Come, Isabel, such an eve,
So musical, so romantic,
Like Your red red lips,
Calmed, be us,
You in white dancing for us,

I would perhaps,
Would just be somewhere near,
The Guitarist whence hath plucked the string, fair,
Stringed we Canst stop not, Canst sing not,

Cause Thou hath to me , how hath brought,
Poesy, paints, blossoms, wrought
In our Deepest love, emblematic,
Our whitest Truth, so, so poetic,

Come , Mon dio, come like that flicker of Hope,
Whence You hath so originally widened our scope,
To see, to feel, every tune that spread,
Through the ether, ethereal we ,have by toils bred,

Canst you not hear the song
That Guitarist who had been strumming for long,
The song like an Universal One,
Filled with only our Love so entwined,

Come, Isabel, shake a leg,
Come, diva, make for me a peg,
A small one, filled with redness,
Straight, from your red pout, blessed,
By Mother Thine, who hath reared you with care,
Come, Isabel, don't you be scared,
For I am, here, only to adore you,
For I am, here, to be your beau.

(*Note: upon a painting, loosely based, done by a Great Painter humanitarian such, Richard S. Johnson, courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni, Alex Artista, from 'Happy Art Series'.)