Ananke

My impatient fate Approaches me, Stepping zealously On the air. It approaches me quietly, Without noise, It comes from The remote area. And I feel That in no time, It’ll open With its burning fingers The sacred, the whitest Door of mine. My Prairies And My Jungle When that we were favourites of sky and heavens When that we were favourites of prairies and jungle When that we were happy. We thought to another neither Then we were able to cry and laughter... Smiled each other Now my wolves get accustomed of collars- skins-colour's Now even the dogs escape from the house to the far-forest And small sparrows have started to fly in warm to the country. But starlings and swallows remained to me of winter's nests...