The maid is paid so little, she's only wearing stockings
On the table, as if in wartime, everything that was forgotten is lying
Hands holding an old book from which the dust flies out
A frame with butterflies on the table among books, needles and bubbles
A skull with roses on the background of a book and a candle
A blank sheet of white paper, a book, a pen, a cameo and a key
A man is sitting on the floor against the wall with a book in his hands