There is a stubble-field on which a black rain falls.

There is a brown tree which stands there by itself.\

There is a whispering wind which circles empty cottages.

How sad this evening.

Beyond the hamlet

The gentle orphan still gathers scanty ears of grain.

Hey eyes graze round and golden in the twilight

And her womb awaits the heavenly bridegroom.

While returning home

The shepherds found the sweet body

Decomposed in the thornbush.

I am a shadow far from dark and gloomy villages.

God's silence

I drank from the fountain in the grove.

Cold metal appears on my brow.

Spiders seek my heart.

There is a light that goes out in my mouth..

At night I found myself upon a moor,

Covered with filth and the dust of stars.

In the hazel-bushes

Crystalline angels were heard again.