Brava, brava, bravissima. . .

Christine, Christine

Christine

Where in the world
have you been hiding?
Really, you were
perfect!
I only wish
I knew your secret!
Who is your great
tutor?

Father once spoke
of an angel . . .
I used to dream he’d
appear . . .
Now as I sing,
I can sense him . . .
And I know
he’s here . . .
Here in this room
he calls me softly . . .
somewhere inside . . .
hiding . . .
Somehow I know
he’s always with me . . .
he – the unseen
genius . . .

Christine, you must have
been dreaming . . .
stories like this can’t
come true . . .
Christine, you’re talking
in riddles . . .
and it’s not
like you . . .

Angel of Music!
Guide
and guardian!
Grant to me your
glory!

Who is this angel?
This . . .

Angel of Music!
Hide no longer!
Secret and strange
angel . . .

He’s with me, even now . . .

Your hands are cold . . .

All around me . . .

Your face, Christine,
it’s white . . .

It frightens me . . .

Don’t be frightened . . .