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I feel them in the nights of fall, I dream of them throughout the bluish snow. I feel the roots…

You hear no dirge, the orchestra is rusty, The orators are tired and forlorn; And in the coffin lies no…

Where are you now, oh torturers of nations? Where is your Majesty; your power — where’s it gone? You will…

That is all. They have buried a very old man. They interred him fore’er in a sanctum of soil. No…

I flee from myself, from the torment and fatigue, From the screaming, ever-watching towns. And alone I will brave the…

Granite obelisks — medusas — They crawled and crawled and then fell ill. But in the graveyard of the spent…