Outside: the freezing desert night.
Another night inside gets warmer, illuminating me.
Though the earth be covered with impenetrable thorns
In here there is a green and gentle meadow.
When the continents are devastated –
cities, towns and everything between
scorched and blackened –
the only news is future full of grief –
while inside me there is no news at all.
This is our intimacy,my beloved friend:
anywhere you put your foot,
feel me in the firmness under it.
How is it, soul-mate,
that I see your world and don’t see you?
Listen to the whispers inside poems,
follow their intimate suggestions
and never leave their premises.