In gilded halls where echoes softly play,
The notes of time, a gentle serenade,
As shadows dance in timeless grand ballet,
The whispers of the past will never fade.

The strings of violins, like golden threads,
Weave tales of love and valor, soft yet strong,
In every chord, a universe that spreads,
Where harmony and wisdom both belong.

The sculptures carved with patience and with grace,
Stand testament to artistry’s pure might,
Each curve and line, a story to embrace,
A silent song that echoes through the night.

The classical era, a dance with time,
A symphony of beauty, soft and bright,
In its embrace, we find a rhythm sublime,
A world where past and present reunite.