Appointment with ? You know my friend...

I'll be late for the meeting, my friend
we arranged. When I arrive, my hair
will be grey. Yes, I suppose I grabbed
at spring.
And you set your hopes much too high.

I shall walk with this bitterness for years
across mountains or town squares equally,
I'll walk on souls and on hands without 
shuddering.'

Living on.
As the earth continues.
With blood in every thicket, every creek.
Even though Ophelia's face is waiting
between the grasses bordering every
stream.

She gulped at love,
and filled her mouth with silt.
A shaft of light on metal !
I set my love upon you.
Much too high.
In the sky arranged my ?...