"To Each his Dulcinea

To each a secret hiding place

Where he can find the haunting face

To light his secret flame.

For with his Dulcinea

Beside him so to stand

A man do can quite anything,

Out fly the bird upon the wing,

Hold moonlight in his hand!

Yet if you build your life on dreams

Its prudent to recall.

A man with moonlight in his hands

Holds nothing there at all.

There is no Dulcinea

Shes made of flame and air.

And yet how lovely life would be

If everyman could weave a dream

To keep him from dispair!

To each his Dulcinea

Though shes only flame

and air!"