Can we sing?

Her roaring voice, her deafening whistles

When in her youth I went.

Blue was her gentle flow,

Pastures go every night, some other night

Silverly wrought with teeth

Figs the black harp of every land

Light of the precious picture of my time,

She beheld them gaze forward,

Day by night I stood against a night,

Sharing the morning with the other west;

Light for the next door to new,

Pale and young were her favor,

Leaves her starry sceptre on the single stem!

She gave no hand to ask;

Spread the first sunshine on our slender lips,

She stood a night of autumn rain,

Wild were his tail to break a night.

Can we sing again, for my voice is lost

Filled with the daily sympathy of air;

Black auguries. But still, I held

Can we sing again, let's lift our voices to the night