On the Lake

Beneath the refuge of willow trees, Lies a lake, a mirror pristine, Cupped by hills in their candid sways, It breathes life like a quiet dream.

And there, caught within its heart, The clouds and skies intermingle, Reflecting day, marking night, A silver dance, gentle, single.

The whispers of water break the silence, Shivers of ripples, softest touch, As the sun dips, with slow reliance, In hues of rose as twilight clutches.

Nature beckons with mystique tones, To linger, beneath her ethereal gaze, As each leaf, a token, gently moans, In symphonies of falling rays.

• Albert Samain