An animal face in the brown green

Glows shyly to me, the bushes smolder.

Very far away an old fountain sings

With children's voices. I listen there.

The wild jackdaws mock me

And all around the birches veil themselves.

I stand silent before a weed fire

And softly pictures paint themselves on it,

An ancient fairytale of love on golden ground.

The clouds spread their silence on the hill.

From the ghostly pond-mirror

Fruits beckon, shining and heavy.