Your harnessed horse drank water from your palms.
Reflections of birches broke in the pond.
I looked out the window at your blue headdress.
The wind ruffled your black snakelike curls.
I wanted, in the shimmering foamy streams,
To tear a sharp kiss from your scarlet lips.
But with a sly smile, splashing me,
Reins ringing, you galloped away.
In the yarn of sunny days time sewed a thread...
They carried you past my windows to be buried.
And, to the cry of dirges, to the canon of incense,
Still I imagined that quiet uninhibited ringing.