Margarita Siourina "FOG"

Streets rock in cradles so softly and dreamily,
Fog diapers them for the night.
Bottomless shadows are sweeping and thickening,
The light finds no shelter to hide.

Tree-tops gleam faintly with sparkles sanded over them
Touched with molasses and gold.
Spheres of lanterns keep milkily glowing,
Whispering stories of old.

Crisp in the day-time, shaped bushes convert themselves
Into a mess of dark shades.
Half-drawn curtains have caught misty flickerings
Playing their intricate games.

Dampness… the balcony doors stay wide open
Let the night peer inside;
Smoothed by slow slumber, insults long forgotten
Are flowing out of mind.

February 2, 1993, Sevres
Margarita Siourina