golden valley
Are you going, It is wild and.
It melts in the sky cranes
removes a shout.
measurement, it seems, the zenith
sad voice, long sound.
Endlessly pulling thread
triumphant spider.
Through the transparent fibers
The sun, this world,
Idly hits the window blind
emptied housing.
For raiment
Autumn sun gave
flown away hope
Inspiration heat.
29 August 1902
