Not many paintings of old masters
I always wanted to decorate their abode,
So superstitious they marveled visitor,
Listening to the critical judgments of experts.
In my simple corner, amid the slow labors,
One picture I wanted the viewer to be forever,
one: to me from the canvas, both with clouds,
Our Most Pure and Divine Savior -
She greatness, he with reason in his eyes -
staring, krotkie, in glory and in the light of,
some, without Angelov, under the palm of Zion.
I fulfill my desire. Creator
I revealed to you, you, my Madonna,
Purest delights of pure pattern.
