On a scorching summer,
I can make you feel the winter shivers;
I, your man, a poet, can make you surmise.

On a dry and humid day,
I can make you feel the rain;
I, your man, a rhymester, can make you imagine.

On a boring and dull day,
I can make you travel a thousand miles;
I, your man, a globetrotter, can make you go places.

When you are blank,
I can draw you realities which will be endless;
I, your man, a painter, have the power to create.

On a not-so-good day, when you want to give up on life,
I can talk to you all night and recoup your belief;
I, your man, a partner, can calm you in your grief.

When you feel the world has forgotten us,
I will write and chant to the universe;
I, your man, a singer, will make us immortal.

When I become reluctant and torpid,
Your love stimulates the individual in me;
You, my man, make me what I always want to be.