There are some short seasonal poems
in the middle of that book.
Most of them have to do with winter.
And I would like to read one of the winter ones
and one of the summer ones.
First one called Dusk In Winter.
The sun sets in the cold without friends,
without reproaches after all it has done for us.
It goes down, believing in nothing.
When it is gone, I hear the stream running after it.
It has brought its flute, it is a long way.