Once we rode winged horses
from edge to edge
over this coarse country
we'd found simplicity and tone
in love and thought
in solitude and poverty
imagination boundless
I think it could be still
despite the fall
I still think perhaps
the fences down
the stables in gradual collapse
wandering the fields in late September
month of partings and rapture
I never should have left.
—with a line by Adam Zagajewski
