Table,

candlestick

and in there

a candle is burning.

It`s shining

and clearing the darkness of the night…

Ripping the shadows that darken the eyes

and pushing  dark minds

in the corner,  to the stove forgotten from time.

The window is open wide,

and the tired hand is ripping the last piece of bite,

the window is open wide,

despite the fact that out there the storm is drumming on the drums of life.

It`s rumbling, it`s chorusing, it`s breaking the world,

it`s changing the night into a nightmare,

– bloody and horrible dark …

The strong storm is fighting for long

but later on, he goes out cloudy- in silence.      

Behind his steps he leaves only horrible havoc.

The wind blows-

puts out the candle-

for the last time it wipes the dust from dry flowers,

from flowers- a memory of you,

of us,

of days, when our souls were bound up with love.

nobody