Lonely Song

Bend low, blue sky,
Touch my forehead:
You look cool . . . bend down . . .
Flow about me in your blueness and coolness,
Be a thistledown, be flowers,
Be all the songs I have not yet sung.

Laugh at me, sky!
Put a cap of cloud on my head . . .
Blow it off with your blue winds;
Give me a feeling of your laughter
Behond cloud and wind!
I need to have you laugh at me
As though you liked me a little.