Pluck The Rose To Colour The Dreams

The springs of my life Have been burnt By the violet light of the moon The blood turns blue in every thought The breath turns fire in every sight Every dropp of saliva becomes the poison for the heart. The gust of wish shaking the hell gates And the river dries up to death in the desert. I don't know How long the night is I don't know the density of the dark Neither have I known where the top is Of my desires and the depth-less bottom lies I don't have any measurement to fathom. But I only know the spread Of the crops up to the horizon And the scent from the center The drug of my heart and the desire … The horse of my wish Jumping over the fence across the sea And the lazy sleep keeps Rolling down from this side to that And the dreams turn black and white. But I am waiting for the summer to turn To melt the snow And the greens to come Then I shall scale down the hill And pluck the rose along with the pollen To color my all dreams.