Just at this time until I write the line
A splendid fern is blooming up somewhere,
A lucky boy was born thanks to divine,
A man felt in his pocket and a coin was there.
Just at this time until I write the line
For someone on the crossing somebody is waiting,
And someone’s stick is leafing out while
The arms have grown – those of the Venus statue.
Just at this time until I write the line,
And somebody is tiring someone out,
The April frost is crushing buds, hard lines
Has somebody — his death is going to about
Just at this time until I write the line,
My soul’s full of feeling certain that, inside,
A word is just the shell, but to my mind
The only thing’s eternal what incites it.
