Reawaken

my simple and tranquil sweetheart,
how much even of a day,
reawakens in all those who are returning at dawn
beneath a tree
watching earnestly
at eyes still bright with having seen you.

I kiss fingers that have touched words they would not understand;

I listen a long while to the rhythm of their shadow where the old evenings hold night prone.


(Blackout of Tell me my simple and tranquil sweetheart by Emile Verhaeren)