With clouds angelic, asleep, *

With those clouds angelic,
Singing a lullaby,
Whence Thou paint a canvas,
Little me I how find there,
Asleep not in the valley, of tears,
As once a poet wrote,
Seeing a soldier hit
By bullets, under the shade of a Tree,not even knowing whether he was alive or dying

But Thy lullaby, how returns me to me,
My innocence, which might, and may,
And always so , appear, Childish,

But what Canst i do,
Tell me,
Finding a canvas of a nocturnal sky
With the sickle of the moon
Just by the bed, so beautifully passing by,

And the warmth of the quilt, like freshly woven one,
Keeping my eyes, with Peace, so like a son,

What Canst not i not sing
Thinking of our Truth of a beginning,

Whence with a nocturnal tune,
With a lullaby, You , to me, from faraway,
So come.

(*Note: the painting attached is done by a good ol' friend of mine, Sam Carlo. All one can say, is that, one is gratified, finding such an awesome artist, painter.

"Asleep in the valley" is an Arthur Rimbaud poem, an anti war poem.)