Far away a fogged sun rose and
welcomed me in her sweet embrace,
herself burning though, like the heaven’s eye
both on her amber surface and inside!
What could humble Tithonus tell Aurora,
that her Love ought to let him die instead?
What might she presume, how should he begin,
with dreams, from love, for life or death perhaps?
Some distances can never be measured
in yards or sticks, despite the distance, apparent,
just like some others, where even the light year fails,
despite repeated touches and the consequent screams!
So, I must be in love with this blue emptiness,
or why should I revel in delight, as it spreads!