This is dedicated to my very best friend...

If, tonight, she scorns me for my song,
You may be sure of this: within the year
I will come and say this verse to her
And she will yield to me for its sad sweetness.


'''Then I am like the candle-bird''' he'll continue,
After explaining what a candle-bird is,
'''Whose lifeless eyes see nothing and see all,
 Lighting their small room with my burning tongue;


His shadow rears above hers on the wall
As hour by hour, and day by day, I pass into air.''
Take my hand. Now tell me: flesh or tallow ?
Which I am tonight, I leave to you.'


So take my hand and tell me, flesh or tallow.
Which man I am tonight I leave to you.

Wood lark whistles. Hogs carry straw.
Sky lark sings.
Young cucumber swells.
Frogs croak: spawn abounds.
Cold & black. Harsh, hazy day.
Backward apples begin to blow.
Frost, sun, fog, rain, snow. 
Bunting twitters.
No dew, rain, rain, rain.
Swans flounce & dive.
Chilly & dark
Dark & spitting. Indian flowers in Dec'r!
Ground very wet. The nightingale sings.

Blackcap sings. The sedge-bird a delicate polyglot.
The tit-lark begins to sing:  a sweet songster !
Turtle coos.
Asparagus begins to sprout.
Cuckoo cries.
No house-martins appear.

Apricots, peaches, & nectarines swell:
Sprinkled trees with water, & watered the roots.
Oaks are felled: the bark runs freely.
The leaves of the mulberry trees hardly begin to peep.
Showers, sun & clouds, brisky air.
Much hay spoiled: much not cut.

Put meadow hay in large cock.
Hay well made at last.
Sun, sweet day.

All things in a drowning condition !
Perhaps this to be continued...
If I which !