Utopia

You are like a gentle zephyr before dawn,

Just before the forenoon murk in the early June, and it approaches soon

Between sleeping and distrait I lie in repose, and then I yawn

Like a petite lotus lily before its blossom bloom.

My only ardor exist in the morning when the earth be wet

But comes back again with the afternoon mocking bird

Right before the sun set;

As stars satisfy the moons calling to ample the sky but only one third.

The fermenting solarium gesticulates to the manifestation of night

The moon reaches for the sun in envy

A push and pull between both majestic spheres; the mocking bird sings to this site

Watching the cosmos in its unparalleled state of pristine alchemy.

This tableau is a promenade between the sun and the stars

Daylight gone, but a shine in your eyes says that this utopia is ours.