She decorates the night with lanterns of Degas
Swarthy reds opaque like Goddess fire
Flemish corridors of velvet puzzles
Rising with flames in stolen desire
Every memory serves the night
Fury like phantom moonlit horses
Ride the crest
Ride the tides of true rivers
You are the distant wind
You think you have forgotten me
The Doors are on
I know better
I feel you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem