With The Twilight Of Evening
R
Romeo Della Valle
0
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With the twilight of evening
An angel slips by and disappears
But is not lost
On the grass of forgetful evenings
Her eyes beckon….
Let her not know
That I the poet am possessed
By the memory
By the perfume of her…
And I swear, by the evening
That all my days are evenings
When at every instant
Come another sunset
And in the same evenings
The same eyes
Take away the memory of her…
Oh Angel! ! ! Oh Evening…
I truly love you, woman!
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