Like Zorba..

Pale red sky..
It falls like silken threads in heap over the jade green fields;
the fields become the innermost thrust inside you; u call it soul!
A lonely owl hoots in the thickets
As the twilight hung in.

Black cormorants streak the sky, their gentle strokes. 
There is chill in the air.
The whole earth welcomes you!
Tread on it that none is hurt, 
Throw yourself into its wildness like none is watching you...
Or just forget the world and feel the thrust in you! 
The whole red sky now turned to dark...
From the far flung fields the black soot of night rises up...
It is black as a raven. 
A myth. 
It enchants. 
If at all I want to be some other person, it would be Zorba. 
Drink your wine, satiate your stomach. 
Feel your senses, 
Oh have some sense! 
Love, eat, sleep! 
That is what I call zorbaic!