A fountain dances in a pool When the wind blows soft and cool Beside the lonely stony strand As if it were a lover's hand.
The fountain blurs, I see it less A nightingale sings on in stress The stones are wet with cold and pain After the morning's Autumn rain
It will be night I will be sick The air is light the evening quick. And if I be, be without care The fountain nymph can be my pair. We'll dance and dance with wetted eyes Beneath the grey and silver skies Until I'm cold until I'm pale The nymph and I and the nightingale.
Anton J.