In summer’s night, the stars weep soft and low,
Their silver tears in velvet skies aglow.
What can I do where lanterns’ magic streams?
My soul’s Sahara drinks the rain of dreams.

No chain to reason’s dry and hollow art —
Its barren truths can never bind the heart.
My eyes o’erflow with sparks of sacred fire,
A truth that soars where starlit dreams aspire.

They say today the gates of time unfold,
Yet I’m ensnared where future meets the old.
Oh, Today, my beast, with tender steps you roam —
A fox’s glide or dinosaur’s slow loam?

The door swings wide ‘twixt now and what will be,
No home in either, lost eternally.
Why does the lilac’s vortex haunt my soul,
Its anguished hue a veil that makes me whole?

Can I seize this flame, this fever, this cold light,
This purple storm that binds the heart’s deep night?
In June it fades, a whisper in the haze,
Its passion hushed beneath the summer’s blaze.

Yet I’ll defy the petals’ fleeting fall —
With brush and pastel, I’ll preserve it all.
In sanguine hues and Gzhel’s golden gleam,
I’ll paint the soul to hold this fragile dream.

Let paradise of petals drift and fade,
The nightingale, my Sirius, will cascade.
I greet thee, life, with gratitude’s embrace,
Though sorrow frames the joy I long to trace.

The garden’s starlight sings a fleeting call,
Its melody a spark through twilight’s thrall.

Oh, where’s the dream beyond this fleeting art?
What grand illusion stirs the trembling heart?