45. night Sketches Poem by Eugene Issaus

There was not a single star in the sky
which was attentive, or even at its place
The white wolf was weary, it slacked its legs
The black wolf howled through the space—

The white wolf started, and fled along the path
almost aimlessly, almost bumped into a tree,
The black wolf quickly tracked closely behind
with tact, with its ears attentive all the time.

There was not a single star in the sky
there was a moon, and some fluffy clouds
gathering and dispersing according to the wind
The moon was stretching its arms and yawning.