| Thank you Edgar, your help is invaluable. Maple you my barely, maple my benumbed, Why are you standing, stooping to the blizzard whitely? Have you noticed something? Have you heard a sound? As though, outside a village, for a walk your'e out. Like a drunken lookout, being on a beat, Who sank down in a snow bank, got a foot frostbitten. Ah, today, I'm also, somehow, quite unstable, Can't get to my dwelling from a friendly revel: Yon, came on a willow, yon, picked out a pine, And sang them, under blizzard, songs about summer. To myself, I looked just like this very maple, Only not a bare one, - verdant, in high fettle. And, ignoring bearing, getting crazed flat out, I caught to heart a birch tree, like another's spouse. |
