Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls.

The blue of my eyes is extinguished in this night, the red gold of my heart.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.

Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.