Six stars and one more to them Breathing in a dark-bright blanket Heart starts beating faster And I embrace the morning chill eagerly Yet, it is strange to see the rotation of time The moment when the black turns white and the silent begins to die The firework of doves decorates the dome And wipes tears of the white Moon king Like your last morning dream Like sea wind... a dazzling white moon Sun rises over the mosque The night pulls black cloth down from houses Air is warmer Sky turns golden Anyway I remember that moment When black commits itself to grey And blue crowd of bridesmaids behind them Who will explain a topography of the sky to me and when And the sign-search of bird wings and ways Keys of clouds and spectral refraction of hopes... Six stars and one more to them Stone poplars hold the crescent of the moon Sun rises over the mosque And the feeling is unspeakable... I would fill a hundred pages with it.