Evening
What The Trees Whisper in Quiet Twilight
by Peretz Opochinski
What do shadows whisper in the dreaming field
The magic light at their bronzed edges
caress in the gaze of the dying sun?
What blooms in their hearts by the sea of those colors
What nods their tired heads with longing
Who yearns for the tenderness of white lilies
Who steals the dew from a mother’s glance!
How grasses murmer
how hearts cry
how sorry – for life
that passes so fast.