happy birthday poem

winged shadows sweeping by
come down at dawn from windless hills
why do
when the wind works against us in the dark
risen from the dead
and my name is truthful
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
friend, whose smile has come to be
and breaketh bread no more
some one complained to the master
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
the long resounding marble corridors
i am fevered
in september