The Flame of Waiting

at nights I open wide my window
to hear the breathing moon and
what the stars are gossiping about

I listen to the sounds of dew and
to the train blowing the smoke
into the sleeping town

at nights I open wide my window
and repeat the names of moments
then I put them into the cradle
and let them sleep
till autumn is again

in the same way as
is the song of grasshopper repeated
and lullaby of nightingale
for flowing spring
in the same way as King sets
one more flame of waiting
in Cinderella‘s dream