When will days be over?
Thousand cornflowers fixed in clover,
Spears of sapphire swaying, emeralds playing,
Towering stalks of sunlit spray.
I traveled time to find somewhere,
Tempered innermost solar flares;
Obdurate garnet, fever incarnate,
Lay me down in the fall-sweet hay.
Affection found delirium,
Sweet summer wrote its requiem;
God remembered, flawless splendor;
Mist and shadow hurry all away.