Tastes of Night


After the past night

gushing sun beams

came down through air holes.

I saw those crystal lips

which were aroused

by the kiss of black atmosphere.

Departed night is a net.

Who can give it the growth of a tree?

A new tree is a technical deceit.

There glitter on its branches

windows of sky,

the cavities of earth and

the journeys into emptiness.