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TELL ME, ROSE
Tell me, rose,
Did you caress her
face
- like the wind caresses your
face -
while the dewy tear burns the
face?
Do you hear the laughter of the
wind,
the whisper of the birch, and all secrets
of the fog
- In which my thoughts are
wandering -
the desolate silence of a love
praised,
that entangles inflamed passion
into the burning web of
life?
Good night!... Good night!...
Rose!
See you again tomorrow morning!
Perhaps you shall show me the way
to her heart
in the dawning of a new
day.
©Walter William Safar
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