DARKENED NOTEBOOK, THE LINES

The summer is out of fall.
The night is cold like desert in the West,
but suitable. The wind is just.
And the clouds, all departed; but the boats
are ceiling in the Ocean, two
with no sails. The stars are blessing
the One. And the One
is a billions.

Airplane.

And the city is tranquil,
while I don´t talk.

The Moon...
what I tell...


"

Hey, sleeping of thanks!
And of tanks.

Invisible spider-webs
in the armour.

Everything is peaceful.


"


Cold is a dress,
a robe,
in the northwest.

Crown is the Moon -
descends a pyramid
long to the bottom of clouds
so thin.

Between the Moon and the clouds
it´s Nothing
full of meaning.

"

O, presence of the Maid
How long have you been
so long to travel

Who are the four little angels
clouds
at your side,
so gentle

And the bottom of your cloak it flocks

"

It passes
(better think it passed)

It goes
(better think it came)

Till never
(better think till ever)

"

The scent of the flowers gone.
The muse of the Time,
ressurect.