Anchor in november

The multicoloured autumn flutters above us,
like a majestic bird.
We were wreathing ourselves into each other
towards the sky,
a blue pillar of time into infinite.

The old monastery was chryselephantinelly sparkling
under the patina of time.
Metaphysical melancholies were beginning to burn
into the willows' chandeliers,
hieratically watching over Ave Maria.

Up above, into my highest sky you were singing all around me
swaying the universe into me like into an anchor,
you were insinuating the sunset upon the path,
the power deep in your eyes
was warmly thrilling me.

Dreams were rising and mystery's sparks
under the blue horizon,
happiness was breathing inside me like into a majestic bird.