On a chilly and dreary afternoon
I drifted through twisting, narrow alleys
Stepping over ancient cobblestones
Worn out by tired feet of folks of yore
My mind wandered through lanes of time
Watching Greek sailors land on river shores
Saw Arabs carving homes from brittle stone
Norman warriors ascending barren hills
As I plodded down a steep incline
I came across a solitary hut
Stripped of its cloak, its naked ribs displayed
Deep wounds inflicted by the blows of time
Through iron grates of windows without glass
I saw roof tiles scattered on the floor
Glanced at shattered wooden beams
That could no longer bear the emptiness
Partly hidden by nettles and by grass
A red rose hangs on a stooping stem
It waived as I passed by, standing forlorn
Its petals frayed by hail and partly torn
I kept staring at that pining bloom
She looked at me with a longing glance
As time stood still, in the twilight
Loneliness embraced two solitudes