the skies of mars are red
what then now of this piece?


on the meadow lived the azure

on the meadow lived the azure
and so it adorn the boy with such
a ragged cloak of time, wingless in flight
alas the wind that brings to task
oh! what wind that totes these sour sweet
short of him to ask

a fleeting haste for a flower in sight
wither does he meander to shun profane night
refuse not such tidings
when the azure makes its bidding
my boy, he departs with the least of ken
quickly now! under a shade mellowed then

thence in still, he is bound
to gushing green and the day
oh! what scent that enthralls the boy
alas its scent, a travesty
for on the meadow lived the azure
and so it adorn the boy with such

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