The Aria of Guan-Yin

"Underneath the horizon I have not found you,

So, where did my shadow lose my plum?

Where have you been that one has not led you?

Why have you not called out, my ari'el?

Where have you found this?

Pink chrysalis,

Where have you found this?

Pink crystal, Alice?

Wherever it is you have found this hue,

Lo, with their cattle and Om Mani Padme Hum,

A lair of liars everyone of them but you,

Quiet in blue, yes you would not aria.

Where have you found this?

Pink chrysalis,

Where have you found this?

Pink crystal, Alice?

Blush for the gemstones I have given you,

But underneath where have you found this sanguine magnolia?

Oh fair flyer if you know I am the truth,

Why have you not called me down to aerial?

I have a trumpet and a wedding dress,

Both sent by your father,

One golden and the other silk,

Oh how I wish the one were the flat.

He calls me a woman,

For I am your orange and blue, truly.

Old, almost dead he cuts me to the hilt,

So now I am like the leaf on the lath.

Where have you found this?

Pink chrysalis,

Where have you found this?

Pink crystal, Alice?

For what are my storehouses?

But your health.

For what are my diamonds and emeralds?

But your fire, rouge.

I kept you from the whorehouse,

I tell it true,

Am I a woman,

Because I have studied ruse?

I thought I had seen all of your earth styles,

But now you have come home,

With one I have never known,

But all the world knows,

These kinds of things,

Belong to I, Jehovah.

Where have you found this?

Pink chrysalis,

Where have you found this?

Pink crystal, Alice?

Where have you found pomegranate,

Under abalone and absinthe,

Just as I am?

Who is the man who has shaken from my hand,

Burgundy in the face of my olives?

You are the portrait of burning orange,

Underneath pomegranate is surely cathedral,

The sirens visage and the lighthouse are,

Under the dragon, a starfish, sharp and flat.

The stained glass lingers over war, bronze and ivory.

Who has the shadow of my shadow, my plum, become?

The face you have hidden,

Betrays the heart.

Underneath the underneath I have found beauty.

Some they say,

Art knows not time,

But they would surely find…

You were like the Mona Lisa,

Wrapped around a candle.

Beauty burning down,

Your waxing,

Waning walls surround,

A fire waiting in a lake,

And I am on the precipice,

Unable to ignore your flame."