He keeps humming
on the moments of the midday--
hung out on the clothes-lines.

In his bosom
is an expanse of grass--
his hummings keep it vibrating.

In his fingers
are the flames of a green fire :
they come floating on his hummings.

Far and far off
treading on the flutes--
in the winds he stays.
Further and further
He goes trembling--
humming and humming.