To be born, all in dream. Transformation: to be human. First winter, cold of flowers. Childhood, all words of God. Sky, from behind the only earth. Curtain of evenings, the wind. My lips, words and stars. Why, before it’s dark, the night. Moon and sun, another world. Recently, so, older lovely-days. To shine in the scarlet: myself. Palace of rain-drops, new spring. Day’s flowers, my poverty. And bridge of thought is night. In the town, wanders about the winter. My leaf-clothes, cold of colour. Raining: snowflake – moon, on the sky. The death of the a carpenter, on the hill. Stars: absolute-empire: my heart. There is not scarlet: my words is Jesus.
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