Poem 3
Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking,
slow play of lights, solitary bell,
twilight falling in your eyes, baby doll,
snail of the earth, in you the earth sings!
In you the rivers sing, and my soul in them flees
as you desire it, and you send it where you will.
Mark for me my road on your brows of hope
and I in my delirium will release the flock of arrows.
Around me I see your waist of fog
and your silence accosts my troubled hours,
and you are with your transparent arms of stones
where my kisses anchor and my damp desire nests.
Ah your mysterious voice that love colors and tolls
in the resonant and dying evening!
Thus in deep hours over the fields I have seen
the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind.
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