Impressions Of Winter Urechinaria
Upon our heads the moon was bright
Her light dripped dewlike down
Upon our cheeks the silken night
In vapoured air we drown
Upon our lips repressed respect
We knew not what to say
And sometimes inconsiderate
Some cruel words got away
Behind our backs debris and dust
We never turn our eyes
Deceived by our own memories
That mingle past and lies
Besides our way the flower delight
Grows sweet without an aim
And if her glow of hope shall die
Her beauty will remain
