The earth looked despoiled
The east alone frowned with clouds
The easy grace of an unpremeditated agreeable talker
The easy-going indolence of a sedentary life
The echo of its wrathful roar surged and boomed among the hills
The empurpled hills standing up, solemn and sharp, out of the green-gold air
The enchanting days of youth
The eternal questioning of inscrutable fate
The evening comes with slow steps
The evening star silvery and solitary on the girdle of the early night