Beloved, in these verses that I write
I would like you to find your dream
In this pale blue pensive sky
That you’re looking at, thinking and,
Feeling each month approaching fast,
Gold forming from the sunset’s cast.
As you hear the stubborn engine’s whine,
Sweeping across the sunlit summer expanse…
And you will think: “What a promising year!
How much sun on the horizon!”… And, perhaps,
When you sigh and softly close your eyes…
Nothing else but your dream lingers.