Here, this smudge of blood,
Of a tender boy of eleven,
Soaked thru the tarmac,
Yet to be dried, still wet and warm!
...
Oh! My river
My cute river
Beauteous you are
In the morn, in the gloaming
...
Is she an angel?
I asked the stars
They were dubious
...
Slouching beside my parents
A shabby shriveled bloke
Wrapped himself in a rug worn
Laden with a bulky bag torn
...
Hazy and misty sky turns (into) bright
Sun shines faintly in the rain ere long
Lovely girl’s lovely eyes
Twinkle with amazement
...