The garden floats beneath the quiet moon,
and apples fall.
The echo like a bell
fills earth and sky.
The apples fall, still warm and full of sunshine.
The dark seeds ring
inside their juicy, fragrant bodies.

Under the black shell of the sky
Night hides the sun.
Under alarm and calm
the live heart lies unshelled
like a dark ripe seed.

The garden floats beneath the quiet moon.
Already all the appletrees have born their fruit.