Bears water a narrow well
Fostering an old habit.
On his yard till knees reaches
Hay stems of last year.
Love without its luster
Did not stay to reside.
A small portion, so resentful
gave of it's grace.
Could no-one love him?
Joy, bliss of child's
Seeks it's impossible self.
On these grounds is its value lowly
And dreams, taken by winds, gone.
Love without its luster
Did not stay to reside.
A small portion, so resentful
gave of it's grace.
Hence I contemplate,
Could no-one love him?
... no-one love him..
The promised land of your fairy tale, shadow land of oblivion.
Autumn of a hundred years comes to pause,
When the yard is silent, without its water bearer.
Bears water a narrow well
Fostering an old habit.
On his yard till knees reaches
Hay stems last years'.