Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you.
You’ve been stared at for more than 500 years.
Men have prostrated themselves in front of you,
Women’s jealousy has reduced them to tears.

We’ve no idea if you are troubled,
You enigmatic lady on the wall.
You might be smiling or sneering,
Or be relieved following a rather close call.

Your look may be joy or grief.
Only you and Da Vinci will know.
Maybe gloom or excitement,
Regardless, you seem to have lost your get-up-and-go.

Did you marry or remain a spinster?
Where children on the cards for you?
Did you live in Rome or Naples?
Were you partial to a nice brew?

Questions, questions galore,
For the most famous lady of all.
Were you happy with the painting,
Or did you find it off-the-wall?