Only This
.
Poetry is nothing more
Than conversation in the shadows
Cast by an ancient stove
When all have gone,
And beyond the door
Murmur the impenetrable woods.
.
A poem is only a few words
One has loved,
And whose order time has changed,
So that now
Only a suggestion,
An inexpressible hope,
Remains.
.
Poetry is nothing more
Than happiness, a conversation
In the shadows
After everything else has gone
And there is only silence.
