This poet will forever be known, first and foremost, as the father of perhaps the greatest director of modern cinema. This poem ("And so summer has passed") is recited by the title character in one of his son's films, a masterpiece with few peers. You can find the original here.
And so summer has passed,
Fictive bittersweet squall,
The sun’s shadow is warm,
But this cannot be all.
All that could came at last,
A soft five-fingered fall
Of a leaf in my hands,
But this cannot be all.
No heaven or morass
Failed to pain or enthrall,
Warm light shined without end,
But this cannot be all.
By life’s wing I trespassed,
Safe and strong was my wall,
Fortune beamed on my days,
But this cannot be all.
No leaves fumed by hot gas,
No twigs broken and small,
Clean clear sky was like glass,
But this cannot be all.