Tag: roses
-
Alone
You never brought me white roses / yet the ground is white-bestrewn with them. / The entire earth is redolent of spring blossoms, / early spring blossoming on snow.
-
On the White Hills
Smoke, a white smoke, floats on the white hills, / a whiteness that flies, scatters the snows. / No one comes now to pluck white roses, / so they fly into the air, whirl and twirl.
-
Evening Stroll
The sky’s rouge / drew back / beneath their steps / overgrown with the sidewalks, / mingled with the dust of asphalts.
-
Light
Right now – stream your brightest rays / melt brightness into my eyes / and pull me into white light / swimming into a light stream