Con­front­ed by the light of day!
A sym­pho­ny of gold and azure-gray,
Hill­sides dark­en with solemn breath
As dusk’s glow dies a fresh­er death

Novem­ber ides, how calm and clear!
Airs of par­adise are ever nearer …

Cloud­burst’s tongue flit o’er horizons
Shim­mer­ing smoke red among the mist
Tonight the song of man for­ev­er wisens
And in tears of sky my cheeks be kiss’d

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