sisimulan ko sa kumusta
pagkatapos ay sunod-sunod na tanong
kung kumain ka na ba
o kung bakit mukhang galit ka
may umaway ba sayo?
may problema ba tayo?

mahaba ako kung magsulat sa simula
punung-puno ng sigla
wala pang takot o kaba
dahil ang liham na ito ay hindi ko ipapadala
ang importante lang ay masabi ko na
kahit na sa ngayon,
ito ay akin lang muna

Do
  raindrops
    envy tears Because
  they glide gently down
 cheeks, And aren't falling
onto concrete? Do raindrops
envy tears As they come from
   pure emotion And aren't
        equivalent to vapor?

                                                      ­                                                         Do tears
                                                                ­                             envy raindrops
                                                       ­                             Which have no say
                                                                ­              in their falling And don't  
                                                         ­                    have to feel ashamed? Do    
                                                                ­          tears envy raindrops Because
                                                                ­             they need not feel pain, Or  
                                                                ­                   fear or heartbreak?

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
  And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
  A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
  Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
  It's winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
  And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow:--
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
  I sit alone with sorrow.

A crisp and solemn early autumn
with fallen leaves,
shivering hands,
deathly quiet.
Then heavy breathes,
searching for some kind of warmth.

Yet it has gone,
the warmth of summer,
yes it has fallen away with the leaves,
and he has breathed his last.

Shivered hands do quake under this cold,
deathly quiet,
darkness.

Yet he has gone,
his life,
fallen with the leaves,
another death in this crisp and solemn early autumn.