This song comes on strong with the
Agile breath of a swift night, post-Valentine.
The lyrics, plain, speak of an old love I used to know —
About a silent rumour
That haunted broken hearts,
Young and old,
In hamlets and in towns.

Beethoven winked at the borders of restive
chords;
Stravinsky stole a single note to donate to
The broken-hearted . . . .

O’ robed nights of scented sable garments,
Red and purple,
How far do you stretch at such compositions
Patented for her elixir, even with subdued violins?

Pulses rummage the dark night,
And sprinkles from a broken jar of serenade
Rained down upon Juliet and me.