A vill at midnight. In the duskI’m drinking twilight’s streaming palm;The sky which doesn’t wear a maskIs naked, solemn, deep and calm. A bluish light from Pleiades,A silver moonlight, softly spread, In which a drowsy garden’s...

A poet’s soul sees not the fussOf this imperfect life on Earth:It sees the thing that’ll never pass – The Beauty’s rays – and gives them birth. 28 May 2011 ...