

continuo a pensare al moto circolare delle onde.


Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I heard you singing
a merry air.
My book was closed;
I read no more,
watching the fire dance
on the floor.
I have left my book,
I have left my room,
for I heard you singing
through the gloom.
Singing and singing
a merry air,
lean out the window,
Goldenhair.