14 September 2012
Angel-soft; a tone bright and pure as a prayer Floats iridescent and glittering Across nights blindness, With dark clouds; it's dulled stars; Raindrops falling (not like pearly joy, but tears). Somehow, it slips through a pinhole in the swathes of black velvet That cloak the sky past dusk. All of the damned world hears this fragment of purity And I smile to myself, as it is I who knows:
The nightingale must be singing As the night, in gale, continues
Night, In Gale. • Opuss № I