In The Gutter Of This Spring
Outside the rain keeps fallingOn foul soil, dying snowMelting and transformingto waters made of woe
Grey clouds brewing idlethe trees can not withstandWhat is dead and gone byis mixing with the sand...
...In the gutter of this spring
Inside the days remainin a dim and lightless paintand with the naked branchesthe sun did not acquint
What is dead and gone byand did not yet beginis flowing to my handfrom the gutter of this spring