Ward of the wise man

Not a poet he was: in an unfamiliar
I did not look for forgotten consonances,
Without anger at the stars and clouds
He leaned over the Greek volume.

Behind the windows, life fell asleep,
Yielded to oblivion treason,
Outside the windows are a magnificent foam
The fountain scattered the fountain.

That night it happened (after all, it's strange,
We do not know the coming moment!),
What with the knees of his wise book
On the carpet slipped unexpectedly.

And the room became a cabin,
Where the soul speaks with silence ...
He sailed, lulled by the wave,
Surrounded by the agitation and confusion.

Dear, familiar species
From the frames of the darkened nodded,
And behind the windows there floated
And sighed, swimming, Nereid.

Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.