"chimes of freedom"

These are the trees
and the furniture of the promenade.
Rolling e rolling,
their cheerleader masses of green feuiles.
Shadow on the walk.
It did not a nod of comprehend,
but stay on the ground the eyes
and don´t know that I´m here, the window.
More one light
of the many in the night.
It curves de corner
and descends.
The back of him is black
as he fits a hat and long coat.
It goes.
It didn´t see a one to him,
and perhaps it goes till the river.
Every wardrobe of troubles goes with him.
It ends.
The trees are biding.
[blinding]
[binding)