Seen golden days came.
All the trees are, in radiance.
At night, cold blows from the land;
In the morning a white church in the distance
And close and clear outlines.
All sing and sing away,
Who sings - does not understand; and it seemed,
If the evening there, on the river -
Whether in the reeds, dry osoké -
And a familiar song was heard.
But I do not want to know.
And the songs of friends do not believe.
All the same - I do not understand the singer…
From there to hide themselves
fatal loss?
24 August 1901
