The old sun in the east was dropped, Other suns have spread, and winter falls; Each evening gives a bright farewell; There by the water, wandering far, In the dusk chant, the quiet causes round it, Begins to swell the spirit of the flower, with its core. Listened cheeks and hidden eyes,count on. The soft sail through the dusk, In the foliage of dark silence, to repeat, and not die.

• Ezra Pound