On meeting you on the mountain ridge pass,
My gaze, becoming clearer, has percieved
The Toskana's blue distancies once
And the counturs of mountains.
Your yellow kerchief is patterned with the flowers -
The dreamy colour of poppy.
You look at the stranger with your big eyes,
Following his going.
Would you let to forget all the old bans
To Me - the eternal stranger?
To reitetate your name - Maria, again,
Here, in the land alien?
3 June 1909