Bedecked and myriad colored Muses, singing sweetly of time,
Sweetly singing to Apollon verse and lyre’s plucked string.
A song washes over me a melody so true and divine,
With all the colors of life brightly laid out before my touch.
Upon this song that greets my ears, it is a world so bright,
It paints a picture of vibrant life within the canvas of my mind.
Muses gather the flowers of the earth, to apply to my work,
The paints are like the many blossoms upon your holy hill.
Sweet inspiration guide me with your tender lilting song,
And Apollons hand over mine guide to paint it so true.
Never falter the brush’s wide stroke, a caress of color in light,
And from this sacred ground may my art spring to holy life.
The paint builds like a crescendo of dawn filling darkest night,
And this painting is like none other filled with immortal light.
Bright Apollon help me to well depict Aphrodite’s blossom cheek,
May my craft surely capture images of the immortal divine.
Whether among the easel or through sculpters soft hands,
Or if the chisel and knives touch the fleshy core of wood,
May my art be true to my heart, and your timeless woven song.