In the shady green village ;
a craggy hamlet ;
in that bluish past ;
at the verge of a grave forestlike .

A little boy lived in the hamlet ;
the fledgling used to dance ;
with a strange resonant flute
in hand he danced to the drum beat.

There was also a sweet lassie ;
she used to stared
in amazement at the lad ;
in the house of the menace.

In that unknown bourg ;
a girl floats on a raft of cloud ;
she was raining in the boy's mind ;
everything seemed amazing.

If only the air of caress ,
had flowded a little ;
a pitter patter shower of love ;
afternoon clouds of thrilling colours.

Redolent afternoon of golden Sunshine
as amber stone ,
the calf smile,
with the fascinating tune of flute.

Dust pollen inundate the mind ;
trees are like sages ;
so much caresses ;
necter falling from the cloud.

Where is the fang ?
where is the hunger?
in that parish of ardour
there was a grove of almug .

In that precipitous back water ;
there was no division
between man and man ;
no aversion no abattoir.

There were no weapons ;
no hatred no brabble ;
in flower garth like a bee ;
hearts were like efflorescences.

Violence , hatred lived
in deep whole on cognizance,
from the whimsical menace,
nectarine rain falls in the land.

There was fondness
in...