At 56-7-8-9...It doesn't matter
Of a well-known secret street, if you knock on the door
First once then three more knocks, you're let inside
Alone and sometimes even not alone

A maid, without saying a word, walks in front of you
With stairs, endless hallways, come one after another
Decorated with baroque bronzes, golden angels
Aphrodites and Salomés

If it's not already occupied, say that you want the 44
It's the room that here they call "Cleopatra's"
On the columns of its bed, standing watch, rococo-style
Statues holding torches gaze below

And between these slaves, naked, carved with ebony
Who will be the silent witness of the scene
While above a mirror reflects us

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