At the end of the twilight
Spotted in the crowded
All becomes the beautiful light
Twilight is orange
And the sky is glazed
Flocked echoed hands
Vibrate the veins
And justice voices
At the end of the evening only the audience
Blocked by distance like fought in gallantry
Continue to reach the wave
As a hand in the faces
The sun is solemn
Hatch the sweat of the ocean
At the end of the twilight silence
Dusk went to the bedding
And a smile continued to fly
The throne is unhakable
Stumble steps left
Spirit, in fingers
At the end of the evening
Other English poets...
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