«Wakeful windows shine. / All night long, they’re lit. / Folks there might drink wine, / Or may simply sit. / Two may just hold hands / During warmth and winter: / In each house, my friend, / There is such a window. Neither wax nor lamps lit the dark away: / It's the eyes, awa...»
«Two threads, together braided, / With bare ends, not combined, / Those “yes” and “no” are plaited, / Disjoined, but intertwine. / In dark and dead entwinement, / Packed tightly, idle then, / Just waiting for revival. / Revival waits for them. / Some “yes” and “no”, em...»
«Beyond the window, it’s still bright, / Through cloud gaps, the Sun there glitters. / Wings in the sand shake in delight: / A sparrow, wallowing, now flitters. Onto the ground, down from the skies, / A pall is moving with a tremble / Beyond, the forest margin lies / As if in gold dust...»
«By a cliff a golden cloud once lingered; / On his breast it slept, but, riseing early, / Off it gently rushed across the pearly / Blue of sky, a tiny thing and winged. Still, a trace it left upon the stony / Giant's heart, and plunged in thought and weeping / Slow and tortured tears, he s...»