On the pier...

Every night he draws his fishing nets back... every night she watches him with the the same look, calm and peaceful at last ...with the same tear drying under the moon... with the same tenderness that she draws back every night once anxiety has blown down , like when he draws his nets back after fishing... and, tonight, as every night he looks at her as he looked her that night, when, alone on the pier, he approached her with a shy and kind "It's a lovely night, isn't it ?..."