The Singer by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

Did you see how he sang such a sweet-tune
only half past noon and I could already feel the moon
beams creeping and crawling wanting to cat-callin
my dreams
no fast-forward or rewinding only re-minding me of why
I do look forward to his singing-spree
good for thee
no need to call the police no disturbancy
the only urgency to open up your ears and your mind
to the song of the woods and the pine
for a hug cut a rug and say sweet sweet good-bye

So when you meet the man with the voice in his hand
and you look into his un-extinguishing eyes
will you gasp or grope or will you sigh?