Frideric Chopin is so aching.
He is so whining and so sad.
Vivacity of finger emblems
Will capture Over-suffering Light.
He is tormented by chill, rainy
Mistakes of cosmo-universe.
From passages of higher ranges -
At once a farewell fire burns
And greets us too. Then for a moment
Here the encounter-death is tied.
And drops of the igneous notes
Are shed to minor of c-sharp.
He keeps the whole world as a loop,
And the world doesn't let him go.
Everyone always flies to Chopin,
As if he fondles the whole world.