Come short poem

Photo by TMAB2003

Friend of the night, come with me,
The moon has closed its eyelid,
The night is like the pitch;
Come on sleepy streets
Like coiled snakes, hibernating
In the shade of houses like the crenels
Of a fortress desolated by souls
And destroyed by dreams.

It’s the time of the depth of silence!
In an empty tavern, at a piano,
A soul is singing its loneliness.
Stay and listen to how the music’s breaking
In notes that fall, burning, in the heart,
Like burn the cold drops of rain
Falling on the bare skin.

Friend of the night, come on the pier!
The air still shudders of the wings’ whirrs,
The waves still bear traces of prows.
Friend of the night, untie the ropes of your soul,
Trust in the wind of this silence,
Put sails to the mast of your thoughts
And feel how you grow wings to fly!

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