Summer night

Night descends from the sky:
on the village, on the dark forest,
plunging into darkness
the environment dear to the heart.

Only the moon shines sleepily,
in the midst of the darkness, definitely.
The lights in the houses are lit,
smoke from the chimneys rises upward.

A chorus of cicadas sounds from the grass.
A breeze, lightly, brings the rustle of leaves from the oak groves.
Quietly, politely, asks.