Now it is fall
when all the golden birds
fly home across the blue deep water;
On shore I sit rapt in its scattering
departure rustles through the trees.
This farewell is vast and separation draws close,
but reunion, that also is certain.
My head on my arm I fall asleep easily.
On my eyes a mother’s breath,
from her mouth to my heart:
sleep, child, and dream now the sun is gone.—