The hills that surround my city
The secret is hidden in their forests;
Above it the noise of a sea of trees
The secret is hidden in the sanctuary of their shadow.
The harvest has come
Golden and mighty,
And scattered its light all around, -
All the narrow lanes have been lit,
Even the forest has brightened...
He is silent and exalted
His head in the heavens,
And on his secret
Rests the light.
September / October 1903