When all is quiet

Slow and tiny grains of night

follow each other in the hourglass,

beating the hours of darkness

as a chain of eternal moments.

 

Nothing remembers of daylight,

and yet it shone so bright,

because tired are the limbs

and dull with thoughts the mind.

 

Worthless the joyful memory

of what delighted the day,

‘cause nights are sad, and long,

as if they would never end.

 

Dreams grow slowly like glaciers

almost seeming to stand still,

stopping after moving a step

only to move two backwards.

 

A breeze from afar, so slight,

bearing the lightest words

heared and gathered all around,

secrets unfolded to those who listen.

 

A delicate whisper then comes

close to the ear half asleep,

telling about foreign and far lands

where the air almost smells like winter.

 

It shows me her face so sweet

and clearly I hear her smiling,

the sound brings my soul to shiver

warming my heart under her little sun.

 

The simple beloved and happy sound

shakes the world I’m sleeping in

more than the whole creation will move

when the last of seven will be broken.

 

I uttermost try to keep it close,

as if ‘t was godly brewed nectar,

alas, it fades and fades away

and tears come blurring my eyes.

 

Black strings sombre approach

and instantly stick to my arms,

pulling me, arising with desperate cries,

towards a growing brightness.

 

To my dismay I realize it’s dawn,

and nothing but vain are my efforts,

morn is arriving, stealing all dreams,

condemning me to stand my reality.