I can love for a thousand years—
But not for a day.
I am sick with a fever,
A fever that interferes with work and play.
I think of the universe—
Stars, and the singing gale.
When I attempt to love the earth,
O breath of wind! I fail.
I dream of the universe—
Stars, and my fortitude.
I said goodbye, forever,
Because once he was rude.
I slide through the graveyard,
On numerous grays of dawn,
By the beautiful statuary,
Adorning the lawn.
The oak and the sky are different shapes,
But always agree in tone.
Where the thickest grass is,
You’ll find a home.
I haven’t changed these thousand years
Beneath that stone.
