Close To Midnight

Srecko Kosovel

 Next Poem          

Close to midnight.
Flies dying in a glass.
The fire has died out.
Fair Vida, there is
sorrow in your memory.
Stravinsky in a car.
The roaring of the sea.
Oh, to be alone for 5 minutes.
The heart-Trieste is ill.
That is why Trieste is beautiful.
Pain blossoms in beauty.

Next Poem 

 Back to Srecko Kosovel

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.