Last night in the midnight hours the moon came down upon my brow,Hung around my neck, as if it were the greatest, most beautiful waterfall!...
It flowed down the slope of my joys, touching them with burning heat,The waterfall’s voice became a lullaby and left my soul suspended.
You entered on the wet-haired breeze, washed by the moonlight,Beneath the song of lips, the rustling whisper of feeling.
You entered the spring of a blossoming body, took the scent it bears,Kissed the rose petal, and our souls flew upward like birds.
Pure breaths poured forth, souls amidst the experience,A white veil blowing softly, over footprints washed in tears of joy.
Today on the white paper of the soul, to the rhythm of song and pencil,With the color of the heart, I write the feeling that burst and broke free.
A feeling, between earth and sky, amidst the steps of a waltz!...
