5
WINTER

We walk, in silence, through the cold park,
the fog making it unknown, immense, strange.
How alone everything is, and the two of us!

                —Silence. Blindness. Silence.—

Suddenly a foggy sun,
—O, where was the sun?—
with the instant blue of the sunset,
gives to everything —was burning confusion!—
the spectral company of the shade.