Faithful

My sun has opened its soft arms has taken my house into its embrace has lifted the stains of darkness from the glass from the eyelid of my window; passing through the curtain, its beautiful paradise with the trilling of its nightingales in my room it has built, — amid my clothes of mourning — it calls me like every day, today too, it calls me: to pass through darkness, to be present, tangible, in the kind world ...