I look at smoke,
as it flies in the sky,
and in curls carries
the beauty of the things
that, once, had bloomed beneath,
and were the pride of men's eyes.
I don't fear thee, O smoke!
though, within thee, I see
my innocence, my youth
and my decrepitude,
for,you can't ***** my,soul
and this,is the only thing
that in heaven I need indeed.