With golden exuberance,
The day burgeoned once,
Childlike and innocent light
Streamed from, oh! so high
Above, and the festivities of
Summer we awaited joyfully.
Whereto light esapes us, now?
Oh, and words, what of them
Is left? Vapour, mist, Autumn\'s
Reigning mates, the cohorts of
Oblivion. Gray the sky; the sea
Glassily rests neath the hilltops.
Sun, ever-loving, amber-light!
Why you turn your ray-spears
Against your children, why the
Flame that nurtured and caressed
Now sears the flowers of your
Rainbow field, oh, loving mother?
Dried up sunflowers, oh, like
Children round their mother, Sun;
They gaze upward with blind
Love and fervorous anticipation of
Rain, their salvation. Yet, the
Sky has no tears left to shed for the
World, nor any love to spare for
Down-trodden victims of chance,
For they\'ve loved the Sun, its light;
But this love\'s been repaid in death.
Oh, sickness, oh love! At Summer\'s
End our shadows grow cold an\' long.