sad death poem

when i returned at sunset
the long resounding marble corridors
in the sphere
some one complained to the master
therefore i may not
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
musing, between the sunset and the dark
let a joy keep you
the hypocritic days
mysterious night
you are clear
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
out of me unworthy and unknown
i make my shroud, but no one knows