Speak slowly, tongue of winter
Leak only strokes of bright moonlight.
These streets I‘ve weaved with hunger
Repeatedly with white sheet eyes.
Quiver through the nights
Beneath a lonesome moon, I hear,
This city croons to me, no other.
With dark descending phantoms
Haunts hoary heads the longest wail
Their hollow beat of footsteps
Will follow me midst snowy trail
Beneath a lonesome moon, I hear,
This city croons to me, no other.
Releasing all too soon, I’m near;
To her my chest gives in, no other
(The grieving streetlights monitored me well, since all was but frost)