Oh, the quietude of twilight, As the sun sinks low beneath the hills, Where whispers blend in pastel hues, And all the world in stillness fills. The stars emerge, like scattered pearls, On the canvas of a velvet sky, And I find solace in their glow, As the nightingale sings not to die. Beneath this cloak of night and dreams, I wander through the silent glade, Where nature breathes her lullabies, And peace descends, the world remade.

• Marina Tsvetaeva