“Quietude

Nothing visits me;
my heart is quiet.

It was Sunday’s roofed school paths,
- everyone gone to the meadow.

The floorboards have a cold shine,
small birds are singing in the garden.

The half-shut tap’s
droplet blinks!

The earth is rose-coloured, larks in the sky;
the sky is a beautiful April.

Nothing visits me;
my heart is quiet.”