Rose of dreams

Rose of dreams
He was clenching a crystal rose in his grip,
   Adoring the grace of its delicate shades,
Introspecting the lights on its facets,
                kissing it with his mouth...
Forgetting that his loneliness was so deep,
    Escaping the turmoil of gloomy days,
Kept caressing the thing he had fancied
     With the warmth of his palms...

And whenever his fingers were touching the rose
   There was lovely a sound born from within.
Clear and solid, as if the ting of the glass -
              It's his soul that was singing...
While reflecting the smoothness of its petal's pose,
   Not allowing the dreams of departures in,
He was watching the flower with prayer full of lust -
       “Oh, how charming its being!.."

Even wished otherwise, it was out of his power
 Only one cord was left, all the rest had been ruptured.
Neither happy nor sad, not even living
         In his sobriety...
He had seen his reflection inside crystal flower -
The look of his eyes that the evil void fractured.
The harmonious sound of his frigid lyric
          Was magnificent in its uniformity ...

10.12.13        (self-translated by the author)