When the golden globe goes behind
and silvery freckles in the sky shine
Then do I with the night finally bind
No longer for the bright I whine
The pacific wind I don't mind
upon my body the moon I let shine
natures roots all over my body wind
giving back what no longer mine
And so winter turns to spring
The dark goes into the light
The fair sun with might shining
Every cycle renewing
What had been joyful and bright
Or what bleak and despairing
Alina A. (1r Batx)
