An animal face in the brown green
Glows shyly to me, the bushes smolder.
Very far away an old fountain sings
With children's voices. I listen there.
The wild jackdaws mock me
And all around the birches veil themselves.
I stand silent before a weed fire
And softly pictures paint themselves on it,
An ancient fairytale of love on golden ground.
The clouds spread their silence on the hill.
From the ghostly pond-mirror
Fruits beckon, shining and heavy.