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Description
A gentle wind makes grain stalks shiver in the cold,
And red leaves flutter calmly to the dying ground.
The fields are gilded by the waning evening light.
I'm walking down a quiet road toward my home,
But I've a ways to go, and will be soon alone,
For Helios is punctual, and cannot keep
Me company.  I'm sad to see him go; we'd passed
A pleasant time, but with night's coming solitude,
I'll have to muse in lightlessness, evoking though
The darkness is of thoughts of sadness and remorse.
Between the branches of a tree there hangs a web.
Selene has replaced her brother in the sky,
And silv'ry threads are twinkling with the stars, but I
Am not Endymion, and she is cold with me,
So I continue on my way, more occupied
By bitter loneliness each step.  I'm nearing home
As quickly as my mood is darkening, and glad
I am of that; my hearth will brighten things, and smoke
From neighbors' fires is a welcome, warming smell.
But I remember now that I've no firewood,
So I'll not linger, but instead go right to bed.
A hooting owl flies off a tree above my head,
So low that I can hear the beating of its wings.
I'm almost back.  The owl nests in a tree I own,
And helps to guard my garden from the hungry mice.
My door's unlocked, it's always so, and now I sleep.

Description
A gentle wind makes grain stalks shiver in the cold,
And red leaves flutter calmly to the dying ground.
The fields are gilded by the waning evening light.
I'm walking down a quiet road toward my home,
But I've a ways to go, and will be soon alone,
For Helios is punctual, and cannot keep
Me company.  I'm sad to see him go; we'd passed
A pleasant time, but with night's coming solitude,
I'll have to muse in lightlessness, evoking though
The darkness is of thoughts of sadness and remorse.
Between the branches of a tree there hangs a web.
Selene has replaced her brother in the sky,
And silv'ry threads are twinkling with the stars, but I
Am not Endymion, and she is cold with me,
So I continue on my way, more occupied
By bitter loneliness each step.  I'm nearing home
As quickly as my mood is darkening, and glad
I am of that; my hearth will brighten things, and smoke
From neighbors' fires is a welcome, warming smell.
But I remember now that I've no firewood,
So I'll not linger, but instead go right to bed.
A hooting owl flies off a tree above my head,
So low that I can hear the beating of its wings.
I'm almost back.  The owl nests in a tree I own,
And helps to guard my garden from the hungry mice.
My door's unlocked, it's always so, and now I sleep.