In the dark new moon night
There’s little light inside
In this big, old room
Full of candelabra and paintings
and carpets worn out.
And I lie here
Upon the big armchair
With eyes wide open
Staring into the blackness
Where spirits and mysteries lie…
Here’s a little candle burning
A moth flies from nowhere
And like a houri, hovers gracefully
Tiny raindrops drizzle outside
And an ant creeps slowly into the intensity
Of the candlelight
In the same space and time
In this same dark night
When cries my soul inside
And sleepy creatures come to life.
