Whom Will You Cry To, Heart?

Whom will you cry to, heart?  More and more lonely,

your path struggles on through incomprehensible

mankind.  All the more futile perhaps

for keeping its own direction,

keeping on toward the future,

toward what has been lost.

Rainer Maria Rilke

(translated from German)

Winter

Summer has doft his latest green,

And Autumn ranged the barely-mows.

So long away when have you been?

Are you coming back to close

The year?  It sadly wants repose.

W.D. Landor