Clair-Obscur dans le jardin diurne

As you vanish like a dying star in the twilight of your thoughts;
I'd love to pick you like a delicate forget-me-nots,
caught in the magic web of words
-sometimes sweet, sometimes sour
invocations of thy name; thy joy; thy sorrow.
As you're darting though the dark forest of dreams,
setting fire to the daffodils;
I crave to follow you;
tiny dragonfly hanging on your wings
and waving sweet goodbye to the older you and me.