Giorgio Veneto (Athens, Greece)

Her dark eyes will glance your past,
embrace bitter years, deep in mist,
and will shine in solitude her kissed,
nightly face of your winter glassed.

Outside the snow will fall and cover,
as a white quilt her steps and trace,
a tear of the North wind to embrace,
a same yard of grass and red clover.

So well drawn was the dream's end,
now a silent snowfall defines forever,
two dark eyes are kin to a far of never,
while falling snowflakes hopes bend.