Knocked Out

Prone on the soil of boyhood

I lay unconscious as sin,

A child of the deep-silenced wood,

The birds sang to me from within.

I slipped on the grass and was senseless,

My head hit a stone or a clod,

I felt an unearthly bliss

As if touched by the hand of God.

Such melodies came that morning

I would have liked to stay

But I heard my mother shouting,

'Get up, go out and play!'