Our freedom as free lances
advances toward its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon my friend
We shall have no time for dances.

The sunlight in the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold

Crumbling between the fingers, under the feet, / Crumbling behind the eyes, / Their world gives way and dies / And something twangs and breaks at the end of the street.

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

I am not yet born; O fill me with strength against those who would freeze my humanity.

The sunlight in the gardenHardens and grows cold,We cannot cage the minuteWithin its nets of gold