Child
You've boarded me over like a window or a well.
Mother
It was autumn
I couldn't hear the students
only the music coming in the window,
Se tu m’ ami
If you love me
I went for a week's journey in soft ermine.
Darling, the ovals of your hair...
autumn leaves,
your hair the hue of rain-drenched bark, your voice:
Don't ever leave me...
And this child, this
window in my side,
boarded over all my life,
— how can I take the boards off, in this wind?
I will break if I bend...