Who wanders, there?
Whose stories, untold
Float like clouds on an azure dream
Over fields of dusky gold
Who walks in low grass
Before the coming of the wind
Breathes of sorrows past
For, over field and over shore
Stalk of high grass, flower here
In ancient home of yesteryear
Who paces there at dawn?
On days fair, and through the dreary night
Where, Waving in the chill wind
Spared by the scythe of death
Waves a single blade of grass
Green against the gold
~