In the valley

The late autumn

comes to kill the valley.

Sad flowers

expecting this die.

Lost, dishearten'd

my gaze sinks to ground,

staring, like a skiff

sinking in the waves.

In the forest

each life is stilled,

each stone

is moistened as from tears.

I go thinking in the mist,

I am,

as though all alone

on the earth.