My heart, as the engraver, cut out image
And has put in my breast the true your shape...
Since that time I am serving as a frame -
The better in the art is the perspective.
Look through the master to his skill,
In order to view there a real portrait.
This workshop, where your shape is saved,
Is glazed with only your eyes, dear.
My eyes are friends with your eyes ever,
With mine - I draw you in my soul,
Through your's - from upper skies the sun looks
In studio with its mysterious fair.
But with my eyes through the window glass
Is hard to see your sun... alas...