The nightingale of luck
whispers in your ear
Luck is drawing near
So do not thing about
The winter and
its winds and snows
Hang your smiling portrait
on your room’s wall
let out a violet laugh
and go into sleep
dreaming of green wheat stalks
filling the backyard
of your memory
along with violets
and daisies
Powering their fragrance
upon your heart and soul
shielding your memory
from aridity and drought
And on the morning
the canary of luck
whispers in your ear
luck is drawing near
There is no room no room at all
for the fox or the jackal of deprivation
to draw close
for luck is now
within your hands
