Capitate boughs of the great Peepal tree ,
My heart is just rendering like you ,
Whom love detached ago years many ,
As to you , pretty birds left and flew .

Now you and I can only see the young
Greenery sitting and playing beside ,
But not can become with or sung ,
Nor flap , Nor float in emotions hide.

Then the same , we two are heavenly chums
To gather for and surrender to
Each other ; depend colescing and buxoms
On the timbre stuff lasts true .

Aye Majesty ! we are bone of such timbre ;
The green and the limbs are brittle , Only the timbres meet in last winter ,
Indifferent of trees , man and fiddle.

© copyright
14/04/2013