​Rooms are getting smaller,
The unpleasant scent of beautiful voices
Soared beyond the little sky
Where birds of inocence took their flight
Disturbed; wounded the awful beautiful laughs.
Unknown joyous top of one’s lungs everywhere
On the gumming up of works,
Shall I evade and run the fastest walk?
What to do to clip the wings,
But never have I become one
For a love is so motionless,

As the sun takes its flight.