Serious Boy

From a city of wise fools,
I am a serious boy,
From depths of eternal springs,
I swim on sombre thoughts.

With a serious face I may sit,
At the yonder table,
I do sometimes laugh,
At some serious jokes.

But the masks that I wear,
Do not really mean,
I can't dream meadows green,
Where winds bend the tall grass.

Yet in this city of perfect grey,
I wear the serious hat,
As I lie on meadows free,
Beneath the frozen gaze.