And so they start to talk about their books,
About their lectures and about their books.
They seat themselves upon a rock and talk,
And talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.
The insects are abuzzing and the leaves—
The foliage of the bushes and the trees
Are whispering, are gossiping in whispers.
And from behind the softly swaying bushes
Escape the sounds of kisses and of sighs,
The kisses and the sighs of youthful lovers.