All in life is ephemeral.
Everything with time, it goes:
Along with it, myself—a passenger;
Life's circle closing, I suppose.
...
high velocity
his car and a glimpse of him
leaves her staring at
memories and how they help
...
You, strange creature, cricket green!
When I first saw you, —I froze with fear!
But then, I heard your ‘creak-creak' voice
On a summer day, and I rejoiced.
...
lips kiss tongues of fire
languorous incandescence
melting slow desire
sensual suffocation
...
Sweet Motherland of Aphrodite!
Of love and beauty is your history:
Truly picturesque to me your sight!
The essence pure of mystery!
...
For now, I know—that's all that is:
The wheel of life in spin, continuously;
I feed myself no more on utopias,
And nothing's left to yearn so keenly!
...