Starry Night

The humid air of Summer  makes us sweat
No time for kissing lovers  on the lawn
Too much movement constitutes a threat

Behind the rose bush hides our old  black cat
Wanting to take rest, his coat untorn.
The humid air of Summer  makes us sweat

Few lovers want to risk sharp heart attacks
Better to go out in cool,  white dawn
Too much movement  is then less a threat

In Van Gogh’s night, the stars look almost black
Here is his lost ear, alas, it’s torn
The humid air of Summer  makes us sweat

Genius  knows  much more than  what we lack
The motley objects and the chosen form
Too much sorrow constitutes a threat

If we  start to work, we are new born
Resisting weather and  the sunlit barn
The humid air of Summer  makes us sweat
Too much movement constitutes a threat