There's a place I like to go
I like to be alone when there
Are birds and it is cold
The grass is green and the trees sound,
Like stories of times
That I don't want when the hat(?) shows
And there was sky
The streets were steep, still unsound

And there was life
Children playing with marbles;
One sits upon a statue
As faces are designed
Looking forward, back, and at me
A language I don't know
It makes me want what I can't have:
A place in this pond
Could it be when they die?