in your shadow
i see roses bloom

May we all be spared
the lens of poets
for ignorance is bliss
and only they truly know it

Sadder than any words
My thought
Comes softly down
Ending again at you.

Mate, I don't know,
how to deceive you in bush.
I was born in sun.

*

Ardor moves in
orbs, which have no silver.
Only tangents will meet.

*

Do not define
any kinship between- two
wounded birds in sky.