Once at a summer day perhaps dream

Once at a summer day perhaps dream

Once as a shadow of light
Gives me a photographic picture
And there my mind replies to
A sound perhaps it is
A sound of owl
Days are as owl
Perfect to some
As extract of liquorices
Above mountains we sip
A day of summer
Full of passion and warm
Then the train will come
Passed by a desert of none dust
Then at a station will run
Through that gapes and tunnels
No end should be reached
And there will stop
busily baggage on a sidewalk
disarranged wait a train again
then a night of flashing thunder
rained the street and washed
here a sound of wisdom replaces
far echoing for a desert to be shaken
to stand on her knees and smiles
however the smoke of powder,
still perfuming the place
and a man with his child wait,
receiving from his wife a message,
not to return

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Once at a summer day perhaps dream