The Poisoned Youth

There isn’t much to say

I was the plague on your sunlit sill

Pulling on the lace

Like the wind, the ocean’s malady

What fields of youth do you walk?

What childhood forests do you come by?

I poisoned the wells

With the ports and the wines

I tainted the springs

With the rums and the ales

The wild peach blossoms

All through the spring

They fruit in the autumn

And it falls to the ground

What fields of youth do you walk?

What age of man do you hope to see?

I poisoned the honeycomb

With the voice of the song

I tainted the honey

With the kick of the dance

There isn’t much to say

I am the plague on the young’s feast

Turning the bread into crumbs

Like the wind, the poor boys orchestra

What fields of youth do you remember?

What childhood forests have you kindled alight?

Let's stand and build this city of age 

This age of recollection