Classic Poem

Charmingly the summer greets my beloved friends, who go to meet it in everyday clothes and with grey faces. And charmingly the summer greets my dear friends, who look at it from the distance through the grey windows of their dwellings and cannot go to meet it. Whatever summer awakens in the trees, it also awakens in them. Whatever summer stirs in the soil, summer stirs in them, too; but — it remains in them smiling in quiet shyness, for they are too tired to blossom forth verdant and tall like trees, for they are too tired to reveal themselves as boundless as the fields .
In the corners of the houses where my beloved friends dwell lie grey bags of eternal poverty. In the morning the sun comes through the door-cracks and enmeshes them with gold. And toward evenings it comes red and sad, and becomes extinguished upon them, and sinks down among them ...
Charmingly the summer takes leave of my beloved friends. Whatever it communicates to the trees, it communicates to them; whatever it secretly whispers to the withering soil, it secretly whispers to them .