on the blue summer evenings, i shall go down the paths,
getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass :
in a dream i shall feel its coolness on my feet.
i shall let the wind bathe my bare head.

i shall not speak, i shall think about nothing :
but endless love will mount in my soul ;
and i shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy,
through the countryside - as happy as if i were with a woman.
Dean "dean" - 15 years, 11 months, 21 days ago