Grieving, I count the days on my fingers. Sunk in this dim crepuscular town Like driftwood from a shipwreck. Like driftwood gathered in a cove. No longer capable of withstanding the waves, Scared of the starflames in the wind. Look, how wealth and glory lie buried.
Fine dreams bring deep reward.
Life leaves a bitter taste, And Beauty's face cannot wear its bloom for ever. Even the flowers of spring fear sudden frost. Dreamflowers of spring fear sudden frost. A moonlit dream lingers long. Flowerscents befuddle like heady wine.