She comes to the balcony in her villa
She is wearing her flimsy dressing gown.
The lonely night is still young
And the crescent moon in her vivify.
The poor flautist plays his flute a sad tune at the river's edge.
And the scattered stars in the sky twinkle to its rhythm.
Though the Baroness likes his music
Where there is a vast gap between them
That never meets?
The unsung elegy seeks the haven
And the measure of freedom in this haunted night.
nimal dunuhinga
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/negligee-and-the-crescent-moon/
