and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig

maybe it was the voice of99ｌｉｂ•neｔ the rain crying,

cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood---

Something from far off it 九九藏书seemed

climbed up through my conscious mind

a shout muffled by huge autumns,

and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.

Wakening from the dreaming ９9lｉb•ｎｅtforest there, the hazel-sprig

as if suddenly the roots I had left behind

deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,藏书网

by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance

a cracked bell, or a torn heart.