Through my window (a poem for the mysterious girl)

Through my window I step out into the nightly dreams
which they deem not of, all breeze of fiery calm;
as tears of heaven, all diamonds in my hands,
fall upon the sleeping city of sins.

Through my window of fragile glass I heard a gentle knocking,
like the softened whisper of some drum of yore,
while others in nostalgic chairs are rocking
and in awkard sleepinnes snore,

I closed my eyes and searched for the tune
which came from the highest mountains of the moon,
and that rythm now female, by my window comming through

it said "Elsewhere another window's opened,
there I heard, all hope and bliss, a prayer softened,
she said : Oh silver moon, may he know I love him too".