At evening, through windows, a violet coppery cloud
On routes, the same hour, crouches an ironly rope
And coincidences on a singular gamut and loud
Today I fear again ... and I believe, and I hope...

A seasonless day and military order
And at the neighbours one hears small diner arrangements
But the products have begun to disappear –
And many have left, and the night descends

Everybody say that it did them good
Or that a genius will be born –
And the study grows in silent mood ...
A silent being, amongst us, knows unknown