Hunter’s call and bloody baying;

Behind cross and brown hill

Placidly the pond-mirror blinds,

The hawk cries hard and bright.

Over stubble field and path

A black silence already trembles;

Pure sky in the branches;

Only the brook trickles still and calm.

Soon fish and deer slip away.

Blue soul, dark wandering

Separated us soon from loves, others.

Evening changes sense and image.

Righteous life’s bread and wine,

God in your mild hands

Man lays the dark end,

All guilt and red anguish.