Without any wind --- Look sharp ! --- Turn, heart. Turn, my heart...

Gnome breezes and winds
from nowhere.
Mosquitoes of the rose
with pyramid petals.
Trade winds weaned
among rough trees,
flutes in the storm,
begone !
My memory is chained;
captive the bird
that sketches the evening
in song.

October without any wind
--- Utopia ---
Look sharp !
Turn heart.
Turn, my heart...