Green Cypresses

Your fingers are eternal green cypresses those green cypresses that are the nests of fledglings untroubled by the sharpness of the cold untroubled by the gale of winter untroubled by the moment of farewell bitter farewells of no return. Your fingers are eternal green cypresses those green cypresses within whose roots the songs of life are flowing. Those green cypresses in whose hearts virgin galaxies of growing take shape. Your fingers are a crown of light on the brow of the earth ...