You'll die when the hurricane blows in the rose garden
When it snows
In the orchards
Poor autumn
Die in the whiteness and wealth
Of snow and ripe fruit
Deep in the sky
Sparrow hawks hover
Above dizzy green-haired nymphs and dwarves
Who've never loved
By the edge of far off forests
Stags have belled
And how I love o season how I love your murmur
Fruit falling with no one to gather it
The wind and the forest weeping
All their tears in autumn leaf by leaf
The leaves
Trampled
A train
Travels past
Life
Elapses