The acrid scents of autumn, 
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear 
Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn 
And the snore of the night in my ear. 
 
For suddenly, flush-fallen, 
All my life, in a rush 
Of shedding away, has left me 
Naked, exposed on the bush. 
 
I, on the bush of the globe, 
Like a newly-naked berry, shrink
Disclosed: but I also am prowling 
As well in the scents that slink 
 
Abroad: I in this naked berry 
Of flesh that stands dismayed on the bush;
And I in the stealthy, brindled odours
Prowling about the lush 
 
And acrid night of autumn; 
My soul, along with the rout, 
Rank and treacherous, prowling,
Disseminated out.
 
For the night, with a great breath intaken,
Has taken my spirit outside 
Me, till I reel with disseminated consciousness,
Like a man who has died. 
 
At the same time I stand exposed
Here on the bush of the globe, 
A newly-naked berry of flesh 
For the stars to probe.