The night crept in with silent
and measured steps,
making its way through things in the house.
Your eyes sparkled hungry and greedy,
revealing the depths of thought ...
Then came the morning choruses,
disturbing with its beauty,
from the overflow of nights love is born.
You went, the hurt day limped on ...
In the evening, in the solitude of the room,
the bizarre persona of poetry appears,
in my hand places a sad pencil.
Now, the chambers confess what was once,
time breaks into shards of memories,
talking about the longing which remained
- the grafted tree –
the fruits which fed my soul,
leaving no gap – the hunger for nothingness -
to penetrate it …

What magic, what a boundless
and how much pain can be gathered
in the words "once upon the time"!