Imitation Of A Song
Your harnessed horse drank water from your palms. Reflections of birches broke in the pond. I looked out the window at your blue headdress. The wind ruffled your black snakelike curls. I wanted, in the shimmering foamy streams, To tear a sharp kiss from your scarlet lips. But with a sly smile, splashing me, Reins ringing, you galloped away. In the yarn of sunny days time sewed a thread... They carried you past my windows to be buried. And, to the cry of dirges, to the canon of incense, Still I imagined that quiet uninhibited ringing.