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What are you afraid of, beautiful?

Lift up your gorgeous face, like the flowers in full bloom.

When the sun pillar beams in a quiver of the setting sun, when the stars that look like
overflowing pomegranates fill the night sky with brilliance, and when the tweets of the night
singing birds come flying along the evening breeze, I will see the moonlight tint your flawless
ears and your smooth porcelain-like neckline.

The rose colored cloak that adorns your body, the rippled sea foam lace that outlines the
collar, the sky colored ribbon tied around your wrist, the pearl of whisper braided into the
golden curled hair - a new day will come when you are stripped of everything and then

When the transformation finally happens, you must not be afraid. All the people in Florence
are awaiting to witness the moment of your rebirth.

You must not hesitate. You are a woman of grace who steps forward like a waterfowl, ever so
slowly but surely, through the flora that spreads across the land. Once the sigh of sadness that
turned your lips pale releases, your verses of sorrow will turn into a delicate poem.

If you are still hesitant, entrust yourself to Zephyr. He will blow the breath of life to you and
clear any vanities that are clinging onto you.

The time of your fate is drawing near. Reach out your arms, like the fresh green elm tree.

You are a married woman. By chance you met Giuliano, the handsome Medici. This city
prospered from his vitality and force - like the ancient Greek Olympus gods.

The melodic dream of your love affair captured many people’s hearts.

You have my word. I can erase anything with my brush, even those who dare to intrude
between the affair of Apollo and Aphrodite. I know that the people in the city of Florence all
wish for your happiness.

Tomorrow is Giostra at the Piazza Santa Croce. You will become the Venus of Victory and
crown the winner. I believe he will be Giuliano. You will be the model on his flag of victory.

I will depict the white robe and the flora that decorates the hem of your dress and the flower
crown that sits on your beautiful golden hair. This is how the lucky citizens of Florence will
remember you, your delicacy and your divine love.

In no time the veil of night will cover the sky full of stars. Once the sun rises and emits its
beam in the sky, the clear sea will bring forth the birth of Venus on a seashell.

The moment when Hora puts the new cloak with millefleurs onto your luminous naked body,
I will cease the time to keep your beauty permanently on my white canvas.

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