A boat of fine silver

paddles through a grey river

 in my dream

 I see it ,

 passing by the banks

Of the deserted rainbow town

 at nine in the night

It rips open the river

 into two silken threads

 cutting across the rush of current .

In it

 a wounded boat- woman

 golden by every inch

 struck by the arc of love

 asleep

 in the great arms of darkness

 is carrying

 grief ( frozen in her heart

 with the remnants of the

 lost songs

 of water and dead fish )

 and a decade old tree of tears

 to

 a far off island

 where among moist jasmines

 flowers of solitude grow.

She says to me in my dream through her dream

She will get her wound healed, there.

She will have her tree of tears

 buried under the soil of eternity.

Adios ! Adios!

By the banks

 of the rainbow town

I see it,

In my dream

She goes by,

 waving to the ruins of history

 till she disappears into the

 curtains of mist

 in the grey river

The nightingale sings behind her

 on a swaying branch of an

 oak tree .

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