Have we played enough in the garden of dreams
The Dragon-fly. . . wings of muslin. . .
------pitched his song on ours
Hands united bringing love, we went toward places
Where the saffron grows, when the sun rises
In the shade of an old oak an inquisitive squirrel
------waited for our kisses.

Past - what can we (do)?
Tomorrow - we struggled no more.

Joy is in the cypress
That shades the old cemetery.

Seas of tears among the tombs
Rusted crosses that pass in a senseless laugh
Gold(en) leaves wrenched by autumn
------a soft rug the loved ghost

Old "solitaire" of forgotten spaces
Night comes slowly
Chariot that an angel pulls
From infinite walls falls a tear.

Joy is in the cypress
that shades the old cemetery.

Rows of crosses under the exposed moon
Field of tears and laughs without reason
Will you ever have
The end of gloomy seasons.

-Romare Bearden