Dark stillness of childhood. Under greening ash trees

The meekness of the bluish view grazes; golden rest.

A dark shape is charmed by the scent of violets; swaying ears of corn

In the evening, seed and the golden shadows of gloom.

The carpenter trims the beams; in the dusking valley

The mill grinds; a purple mouth swells in hazel leaves,

Masculine bent red over silent waters.

Autumn is quiet, the spirit of the forest; a golden cloud

Follows the lonely one; the black shadow of the grandson.

Ending in a stony room; under old cypress trees

The nightly images of tears are gathered in a well;

Golden eye of the beginning, dark patience of the end.