Few times do I feel the breeze
of a cold night.
So I recall the words of lovers sadly in the sun,
unending sun: "We will run forever with the hot timpani bang!"
As the sound recedes, bored lover falls asleep and disappears.
Horns surrounding me sing so forcefully and high!

Horns surrounding me sing so forcefully and high!
Moon, they forget how soft heart is, unfolding over time.
Heart, don't forget how young we are! We wander softly.
Seen through a window, my love blurred, mute, and slow.
I offer roses to nothing.
The answer absent.