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WITH GOLDEN SHARDS OF HOPE

Amb. Diana Mehmeti

When you come, morning will become a bird,
To fly lushly in your own light,
The tendril of the vine will tease your hair,
The white rose will hold from your hand…

When you come – the day will have a fairytale name,
New light will take the alleys, the streets, the city…
Flowers will bloom on all the trees in the yard,
And I, poor me, won’t know who to share the joy with first.

When you come, the sea will be enchanted by the dance
Of silver-colored fish,
The anxious old boatman will hesitate,
He will lower the sails, not to frighten them.

When you come, your kiss will taste like a peach,
That blushed with shame in the corner,
The birds, like never before, will return to autumn,
With golden shards of hope in their beaks.

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