Lit fogs of dawn Go prone in fields Celestial wheels whereas turn. Don't grind away The evening's griefs! Unstow my youth. My eyes - unburn. Unraveled sky, Why fold in thunders? And paint lakes As gray as they, Drive nymphs from shores? Sometimes I wonder: Where are they now? Where led their way? What were your wrongs, You, chisel, and you, sculptor? Unreach horizon And unsee the star that shot. Unhear starlings' songs And close the door, the lock. What were your rights, You, glowing, burning rock?