Lilac babble... a silver overflow...
In the pale-blue stone veins
The city pulses - a giant, dreaming
Of the whisper of secrets, still mute.
The sleep turns to glass. In the mirrors of shop windows -
A steel glimmer of quiet non-being.
Lilac shadows - a dance of ballerinas
Weaving their rhythm... an elusive feeling.
Look: through the smoke, through the lilies of lights,
She walks - or is it only a fragile breath?
The semi-transparent train of her years
Vanishes into silent labyrinths.
A lilac cloak... not a step, but only a sound.
A pearl mask... a gaze like crystal.
This city breathes - through thousands of partings,
Hiding its dormant regret.
Pale-blue... silver... and mute.
Is this a figure? Or a whimsical game?
Twilight takes - and twilight will take
Everything that has not found a name.
Lilac Mirage
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