Délutáni álom

A languid summer afternoon drifts into a vivid reverie, where the narrator rides a white horse toward the glowing towers of Baghdad. The city shimmers in the heat, its palms and cypresses exhaling perfume that mingles with incense, while the rider feels the weight of a silk purse filled with gold. As the sun dips, he dismounts by the river, the water reflecting a tapestry of amber and orange, and watches countless tiny boats disappear into the twilight.

There, on the riverbank, a mute countess appears—a woman in a flowing floral hat, a green veil draped over her shoulders, and eyes that flicker with a faint violet light. Their silent dialogue unfolds through glances and a delicate touch of scented oil on his forehead, hinting at hidden longing and an unspoken pact. The encounter leaves him both haunted and enchanted, as the fading light and distant stars begin to crown the night.