Alles ist Blatt

Tot és fulla / i per aquesta simplicitat / s’esdevé la més gran diversitat possible.

De volentat

De volentat lo cor me tremolava / tot enaixí com fa fulla en arbre…

Make me thy lyre

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: / What if my leaves are falling like its own!

Whirling fast

Dull November brings the blast, / then the leaves are whirling fast.

Run to the roots again

It is time to let the leaves rain from the skies. Let the rich life run to the roots again.

Though not

A Wind that rose / Though not a Leaf.


folia haud ullis labentia ventis


If Poetry comes not as naturally as the Leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.


A Dew sufficed itself / And satisfied a Leaf.