---

At the edge of spring leaves' hearing I wither.

The first bouquet has smelt.

In the rustle of wind I'll set out into thicket.

With tam-tams' sounds I dance.

I run with tunes of space.

Today's sight, heart-rage again.

I feel the time of sign.

I feel the sign of rocks.

I fell in silence.

The unknown don't believe me  nor dance.

I'm stoned to death, a torn dream.

I don't comment, I walk among the trees.

Tears melt into icy stones.

The first ray destroyed my fear.

Surprised I look round on a rise.

Painting flooded river cannot hear my crying.

I fell down mute. I'll order and do it myself.

From the torn head a life-dream fades out.

I don't comment I turn back and go away.

 with tam-tams' sounds I dance.

Eye-pupils like capacious space.

Who of us flies ...