A
lonesome prisoner of forest,
A summer nightingle
Has swallowed all the blood of flowing
sunset,
All expectation of the Earth,
The wariness of thje young and virgin
fog
And burdens of the future night.
Intjkxicated by the hops of colors and
desires,
It started crying with his absurd emotions.
He turned into a solemn echo,
He wandered in the grove of clouds,
He ruffled silence and calmed down
Just like a splinter
Of strange and boring dreams. |