Calendar leaves

Calendar Leaves
 
Today I have turned in, my beloved,
the leaves of my calendar
and let my fantasies fly
like tears of a rosary.
 
The hours have flown away,
dates have lost their motive,
just the singing birds remain
breathing memories in their nests.
 
I have seen the spring
with its rumors of a gentle breeze,
and in the hours of the sphere,
a vague flutter of birds.
 
They have departed in the blue
of midday... only leaves of old calendars
float on to the most remote
gardens...of the of the south.
 
Only you, amazing muse
of enchanting candor, stay in time
suspended, sleeping in the cradle
of my arms.
 
Only you... in the passing of the hours
with their crisp sound of Stradivarius,  
resounding in the leaves
 of the muted calendar.