A grandson sails through the century
jumps into the chair of grandfather...

Hydrangia was in full bloom
when I left...

It was dull green
under the weather...

Was busy
carving out the white clouds...

Acid filters in the cords
scathing the greens...

Goats and camels
My caravan moves on sand dunes...

Talking of nameless and unhappy death
I resume the pathos of recluse...

Remember it not.
Oblivion...

Shared my solitude, gave me comfort,
the road, my prelude to a long journey...

Into the dark enters the blue;
a homeless song punctures the cloud...

They felled a huge tree.
Some Druid feared that it had an afterlife...

In troubled times
he just walked away...