In the Shade

To You
Soon the autumn will be burned
All its weeping flowers will be washed by the snow
The time of mourning is still away
And the road is short
The dreary night comes
Burdened with a smell of absence
Your face, when I miss it, turns to a sweet inhalation
With a taste of nectar

From a distance, his voice, running, came to me
From behind the whispers of the clouds and the murmurs of the rain
I closed this door and that window
My fingers were muting my hearing
But it entered
Pulsated with my pulsing
And lightened the darkness that was here.