How moving aside the leaves, she came once*

How moving aside the leaves,

Falling continuous, after a squall

She came, like a sweet surrender,

There was perhaps a bit of drizzle somewhere,

And a lightning spark went across

From one end to the other

Of the brightest sky,

How she came like a whiff of fragrant air,

Diffusing me perhaps,

The sky thence was perhaps all lit up

With glory of our communion.

(*Note: the painting attached was done by Leonid Afremov; courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni, Alex Artista, )