To open the door - there flicker,
And for a bright window - Visions.
I do not know - and I will not hide the ignorance of,
But sleep - and the waters of a dream.
In a quiet air - melting, knowing…
There's something lurking and laughing.
What laughs? Mine, sighing,
Does my heart beat with joy?
Spring whether the windows - pink, sleepy?
Or is it me smile Clear?
Or just my love heart?
Or just think? Or all of the recognized?
17 Martha 1903