Twilight brings half light,
soft silhouettes against the clouds
mere traceries of life
that boomed and strutted
in the sun;
all quiet now
as lady Night
unfurls her parasol
and soothes the land
with shadow.
A gentle time of night scent
potent on the air
a fragrant breath
too delicate for day
too subtle for the brazen
noonday sky
but perfect now
a mist, a trace
across the lips
closing over
secrets as the
Lady walks abroad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem