All through the yawning and waking
I waited patient,
In the cold, black dress
Of the vaporous night.
He walks out of the concrete coldness
And into the procreating sun;
Thus starts my fine day,
I’m born; a shadow in the dirt.
Sun, the one who moves it all,
The one who moves me along,
Gives me longing at morn and eve
And spares my wish at noon alone.
With the warmth of the high sun,
In its golden light, he hugs me; loves me.
Memory fails- the time when he sold himself,
His core of existence embedded in me.
Dry union of a few minutes,
Before the wretched world parts us,
The life’s painless, impassive gaze
Makes me yearn for another noon.
