The circular white sun
Leapt overhead and grew
Red as a rose, darkening slowly blue.
And the crowd wept, shivering,
Standing there in the cold.
The sharp-eyed girl miraculously
Cured by a beggar passed the word along.
Water, she said, and they found a spring
Where all before was dry.
They filled their jars with the water.
All will be forgiven, good and evil together.
You are all my children. Come back
In mist or snow, here it will be warm.
And forget the perishing cold,
The savage light of day.
Every Friday at noon the same;
The trains were full of people in the evenings
Going north with gallons of sour water.