THE AUTUMN OF THE WORLD
AS A HOST of blood-flecked clouds
skim the golden sky
and melt in the vermilioned vastness
There comes borne on a wind
from the infinite womb of chaos
the dank wafture of decay.
Over the eternal waters of the sea
that weep and find no solace of their cares
Lethargic vultures flock and swirl
and fill the echoes with their gloomy cries.
Cold winds from arctic zones
betray
the transient things of earth:
The last yellow leaves
fall on the iridescent sward:
The wind dies
and the summer voices are forever quiet.
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