It was a white night. The river was quiet, tinged with Gray, a blend of White and Black, creating a gothic effect. A silver hue bordered the river in such a thin way that it became intense only when exposed to the moonlight.
The thick mist which blotted out the stars moved as a veil among the cold constellations –now images reduced to fragments, just a concentrate of dust floating in the black panel.
The trees denuded of leaves were covered with dead shades. A perfume of nothingness invaded the air under the winter sky. The night hours breathed slowly.
When the morning came, the first sunlight enlivened the pale colors under the ice, the shadows swallowed by the morning.
The white night faded away while the waters remained still under the last vague stars.
My words 