She Created Him

[Verse 1 — Female-1: Wife, singing, quiet but clear]
A fortune teller told me of trouble,
Of his sudden death...

[Verse 1 — Female-2: Gypsy, incantatory, low and steady]
"Your soul will perish and be buried in clay,
Scarred with fire across your belly..."

[Verse 2 — Female-1: Wife]
The man doesn't knock on your door,
With whom you cooed for countless years,
With whom the years transformed into light,
With the screaming wrinkles on your brow.

[Pre-Chorus — Female-1: Wife, rising tension, vocal strain]
(chords denser, shaker faster, vocal strain, building tension)
Just don't believe, don't listen, don't look back!
Let worlds collapse—I will not give up this look!

[Chorus — Female-1: Wife, peak intensity]
No, no-o-o! Crazy fortune teller!
Shut up and take back your words!
This will never happen!

[Verse 3 — Female-2: Gypsy, unyielding]
I don't know myself, I only see,
For the wingless, everything is predetermined,
And all that remains is to overthrow the body...
For these villains—it's all the same!

[Chorus — Female-1: Wife, defiant]
No way! I will forbid the wingless!
Let all the demons crawl away!
They will never hear my womanly moan,
I will tear them apart and scatter them!

[Bridge — Instrumental, melancholic cello lead, sparse guitar fills, slow build]
(cello lead, sparse guitar fills, slow crescendo)

[silence — 2 seconds]

[Verse 4 — Female-1: Wife, slightly softer but still firm]
My husband is a poet! I created him, and I drink tea,
He gives away years to the morning dawns
Just like that, he gives away gifts —
Now to winter, now to August, now to May...

[Pre-Chorus — Female-1: Wife, urgent, building intensity]
(organ swells, thicker chords, rhythm driving)
Don't you dare whisper, don't you dare prophesy to me!
I will burn this darkness with my fire!

[Chorus — Female-1: Wife, resolved but strong]
Be silent and don't prophesy to me,
I don't believe your chatter!
You, shameless gypsy,
In vain did you whisper of misfortune.
Be consumed in flames in hell.
I am my husband's eternal servant!

[Final Chorus — Female-1: Wife, maximum conviction]
No, my husband will not die,
For it is impossible...
[stop time]
Poet! I created him!
And that gypsy...
In vain did you whisper of misfortune to me.
Burn, soothsayer, in fiery hell!
I am the muse, his eternal servant...