I'd have wandered this night with friends.

All our eyes in abeyance towards the beckoning moon, fervid breath mingling with fresh frost rising to the cold stars.
We would move by the zephyrs against the pace I move now.

Tonight, I'd have wandered the night with friends,
had I a trust to openness and a courage for late, lonely hours.

Only the dark quarters or the sweet fall of old trees or the tinkling of unknown stirring could hold me dearly and cure my silent footsteps.

It is not my duty to weep for the pines, and yet, here I am.