Late Summer - Gipsy Violinist
ate summer - gipsy violinist
In the immense mass of a green leaves
flashed the red and yellow ones
The promise of a change
messengers of the Fall
In the air floated certain undertones
of a melancholy and decay
The melody, as a raging river
owerfloaded from a trembling strings
The Violin sobbed with a plainitive note
its voice, penetrating
as an eye of a Sphinx
sent the shiver down my spin
and left the rest of me afloat.
The gipsy man drove his bow
as if it was a Devils tool
an arrow shot from the Hell
The moves stabbed to the heart
and pierced humans soul
and he kept playing
for few coins and understanding smile.
The whole day resonated with the joy
of a meadow if is filled
with the music of birds
and humming bees.
and with griefs
of dusty roads and endless journeys
With a passions
of the night under twinkling stars
with the beauty of a nomad life
with the secret of a fortune teller
with an eternal damnation.
Copyright © Vera Dike | Year Posted 2017
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