Along the river Ken
Crossing its legs
The stone sits quite silent.
...
At the death of his father,
The son
Of a starving farmer has -
...
When we are no more,
The fields will still remain,
And the mustering thick on these
Fields.
...
O Sailer : play not thy flute,
My mind sways,
My mind sways as sways
The aqueous sheet,
...
Strike the hammer,
And with blows repeated
Bend the red hot iron
Into any and all forms desired.
...