Not mani me you, will,
No call of fields!
We feast together, whether,
Mother Earth?
Curls wind ruffled
you're far away,
But I was blessed
white hand…
I cross touched the dust,
I am kissing your ashes,
We do not live together with you
The joyful fields!
Only for a moment in the air world
Ohlyanus, take a look,
As the earth in a green feast
celebrates spring, –
And going by-road,
Painful way -
I live with my wretched soul
poor pauper.
July 1905
