. Q
u
i
e
t
O,
though
woh
little
ylgnis
you
era
:
soft and crisp;
won't you enter me
the gentleness (your unsound)?
I
n
c
r
e
a
S
i
n
g
by voice and unvoice
the white song: living?
O Quiet and you are so i think you are beautiful
in your shoulders and in your neck i think
you are increasingly beautifuler
than doused in night
and stars earth.