Wakeful-Sea

In the midst of the wakeful sea I outpour myself, what happened to me in the middle of the night I ask myself---- grappling soul-----rassling question

And that's how I arrived at this nadir point 

I desire to go aimlessly, without knocking on the door, 

I do not go lonely through the murmuring streets

The streets are tedious and deceptive, trappings on the tattered walls, 

The whispering voices of the young damsels and vulnerable men, 

Cosy beds, scattered petals of fondling roses.

I do not know where I am, because they do not know, who am I. 

I will go outside and I do not know where the winter flowers are kept, all sullen and shrunken 

And I do not know where I am, because I am an outsider here. Nobody knows me, nobody understands me, 

Men and women come, and endless chatters,

Broken lyre, worn-out candles, evaporated incense 

Red carpet stifling and tattered....and love at night 

What I will do here, poorly, beggarly and alone?

Staying long, thin, tenuous time turning down,

These glades, these snowy hills, these dark forests, 

And the spent moments of love, what I will do here...lost, faded and dissolved ...

I became one with my lost, forgotten love, 

I became one with my effusive, deploring soul 

And I became one with my complete, void Whole, 

I am now on the verge of a white sea, 

The banal time is passing, new time is hurrying near

Now all the days have passed, the evening is yet to come in the cold-silent hills 

And a new life is waiting across the hued horizon...