Arabeschi flaming creep
and mark its path.
leave a powder suspended.
And the sun will consume more and more.
the shot of color, such as sleepwalking, walking the moon,
swells, rises, saying goodbye to dusk.
The night smells of jasmine,
last breathe air, and then close the rest.
Between green, darkened by the dark, the stars shine;
rolling on the leaves like drops of dew at night.
The night is warm and happy.
In the silence, the sounds get stronger, grow,
echo through the darkness, like tinkling crystal
a dirge through the garden to sleep.
flickering leaves the nebula ...
melody accompanies the wind that speaks,
coming out and disappearing among the leaves,
announces a cold tomorrow.
not have colors or sounds, tomorrow.
Then, I will focus my verse
so that the fire heats it,
coloring of red flame.
A solo harp
sweetens the soil moist, deep, deep
... waiting ...
the night is warm and happy.
Franca
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