The leaden sky is a heavy sign The sun is broken up by the bright white dregs The ringing in my ears is sharp Quickening, quickening The low-flying swallow makes a figure of eight As it flies o

In the exciting madness between the noise and wild dancing we perspire and sweat falls. Honestly, I don't mind it at all Rather than imagining it, pierce this phenomenon into your flesh and b

The street corners grow lively: it's the girls' territory Lonely braids waver in the stir of the wind A temptation that hurts my ears, and the smell of camellias On a cloudless evening