You said the root was poisonous flame
But taught me wise not to disdain
The swift sad breeze may sweep your strength
Yet, nonetheless I deem my friend
Should you behold of many keys
The dying sun of love, between pale autumn leaves
With soft scented breath of new-born bud
Indulge me not squirm in mud
Bestow my soul, shepherd my dreams
One who disguises gold heavenly mist
Downfall of draught to dreadful storm
Entangled earth, no seed too old.
Warmth of sweet grapes, melted in copper
Wide open arms, the nest unfolding slower
Than eyes of beauty, no star too near
Show me not wrath when I leave my dear
For every drop shall be praised high
A kiss of spring upon autumn’s torn sky.
No death, my love, now your soil’s fertile
Though t’is the humble layer I chose for my burial.