Gleams a light
across the darkness
casting waves of lace
on my windowpane,
breaking night into colors
that no night can understand
and consuming me
with joy
when the invisible hand
flips the switch
and unbroken blackness
fills endless space...
but I am content.
The memory
is still warm
in my soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem