There are songs to be sung whose words I don’t yet know
There are novels to be written and stories to be told
Journeys to be made, battles to be won,
Hearts broken and mended in these ballads left unsung.
Perhaps, one day, they’ll find their way from my mind onto a page
Until that day they grow in my thoughts and in my dreams they rage
Most will be lost and forgotten never seen
Except in their brilliant flashes upon my mind’s own screen
So many times I wish that there was a way that I could share
The ones who dance beyond my reach and vanish in thin air
So if someday you see me and you ask what’s on my mind
And I simply tell you nothing, I don’t mean to be unkind
Perhaps there simply aren’t the words to describe the things I see
Or maybe, I fear, the magic that I invest them with won’t translate unto thee
So there are novels that may never be written and stories left untold
And songs whose words and melodies the world will never know.

Paul Cesar Helleu, Daydream (1901)