«We are at a small station. / We are forgotten by the night, / By the still, moonlit night. / In a little forest glade... / Delirium-or are we plainly / At a small station and / Forgotten by the night? / You have gone far away. / Tired steam locomotive... / The boards are pale yello...»
«Is this mingled shadows. / Only shadows, on a moonlit night of May? / Is this specks of light, or lilac’s flowers / Turned pale there, falling / On your knees? Was it in / Waking hours, and was it you that I loved / Madly and unquestioningly / In the...»
«The sorrow of its roulade / Is betrothed to the dawn... / How glad I should be / Not to hear this toy! Let it be the same tomorrow / As it was yesterday... / Though louder at first, its / Game continues more evenly... But now, already not reading / The long-hateful notes, / The gol...»
«I knew that Anguish would / Return and stay with me. / It will tinkle and shut / With the watchmaker’s door. He who has opened the door to it / Will link and again unlink the / Palpitation of the steel heart / With the chirring of the wings... Cicadas impatiently beat with / Eager ...»