Remember O love! How was our love! Pure than the parrots’ pair Who live in the wild highs… Away from the city's sins and sweat And ah! Sick societies have constructed – Sad standards. That is, free from any commotion and cry, On the lofty pine by the bank of the snowy creek-- Hummingbirds hop on the mossy rocks. ...whole nights embraced, Whole days—hand in hand.