NOCTURNAL

Mounted in the night is the lake of your soul,
A cloth, one would say, of crystal and calm
Woven by the large spiders of wakefulness.

A skim of sacred water in alabaster vases;
A mirror of purity that brightens the stars
And reflects the abyss of life in a sky!…

I am the wandering swan of the bloody trails,
I go staining the lakes and rising up in flight.