The service given by the appropriate surroundings
The error of expecting more than one turn out.
Save me from the hopeless rerun of fallen birds
From trees that do not know the name of their photographer
And keep watch over the hopeful soil of wandering men
Who always want to be closer to something.

I am healed when the water is running past me
The avatar of the meadow is the running grove
It is dispelling my illusions about time and space
I am more likely to hear what you have to say:
Say something kind and I will offer you an apple.

From the tree
From the grass
From where the barren nature devoid of human sympathies does not pass.

There are places where we can meet up and seem
Similarities for the fortunes of frightening nights
When the moon was more patient than the lustful sun
That told of one more confession that needed time to erase the muddy deed.

AI Summary

It’s a poem about seeking healing in the natural world — the water running past, the meadow as avatar, the grove dispelling illusions of time and space — and the speaker asks for kindness, offering an apple in return, as if rediscovering a simple, ancient form of exchange; the poem contrasts this purity with the barren places where human sympathy fails, yet still imagines meeting points where people can share their fears, their nights, their confessions under a patient moon; in the end, it becomes a meditation on gentleness, on the desire to be closer to something real, and on the fragile hope that even muddy deeds can be softened by time, nature, and the quiet grace of being heard.