The day dipped in a pale, pale silence, the dark black cloak spread, silent in a gust of northern waves, fatigue comforts quiet, quiet is infallible. They wiggle the gulls, in the sky, home of loneliness, swallowed abruptly in the white mist I walk in the space of whiteness, which is hiding its undiscovered secrets in the midnight mysterious shades, which I will ever know even from far distances. The port is still quiet here every bird has a voice and still the sea smiles of secrets, not discovered by us.
