In the twilight,
in the glory of a soporific dusk,
In the shade of dreams rekindled,
in the fragrance of the musk,
Who would meet me and embrace me,
and from lip of mine withhold,
All the tears and all the longing
with that same sweet kiss of old?
In the twilight who would hush my sobs
ere yet they left my lips,
In the twilight who would speak the words
that time can ne’er eclipse?
Who would hold me in his arms
and call me little woman brave,
Who would go with me up yonder
to the silent lonely grave?
In the perfume of the twilight
comes his tread of souvenir,
In the twilight, in the gloaming,
who would know
I’m waiting here

Poetry by Eleonora