In the thick grass with head perish.
In the quiet house will enter, without knocking…
hug arm, opletet oblique
AND, stately, tell: "Hello, prince.
Here I have - shrub roses.
Here yesterday - dodder wound.
where was, disappeared? that for the message brought?
Who loves, does not love, who persecute us?»
As it happened, forget, the days are,
As it happened, forgive, who are proud and angry.
And look - the clouds in the distance stand,
And listen to the songs of distant villages…
Cry heart on the wrong side,
Queries in battle - calling and beckoning…
say only: "Goodbye. Return to me". –
And again, for the grass bell rings…
12 July 1907
