Where are you wandering to, little fools
Come, big sister will teach you how to write verse
Itchy little wasps sucking rotting flowers
Horny baby lambkins butting gaps in the fence
When the honey, fruit and flowery tablecloth were whisked from the table in one sweep, it flew off with a start. Entangled in the suffocating smoke of the curtains, it buzzed for a long time. At last it reached the window. It beat its weakening body repeatedly against the cold, solid air of the pane. In the last flutter of its wings drowsed the faith that the body’s unrest can awaken a wind carrying us to longed-for worlds.
Washing the hoe--
ripples on the water;
far off, wild ducks.
Translated by Robert Hass
Waken not Amor from sleep! The beauteous urchin still slumbers;
Go, and complete thou the task, that to the day is assign'd!
Thus doth the prudent mother with care turn time to her profit,
While her babe is asleep, for 'twill awake but too soon.
'Impossibilities' are good
not to attach that label to;
since, correctly understood,
if we wanted to, we would
be able to be able to.
Upon the work of Walter Landor
I am unfit to write with candor.
If you can read it, well and good;
But as for me, I never could.
He would leave early and walk slowly As if balancing books & nbsp; On the way to school, already expecting To be tardy once again and heavy With numbers, the unfashionably rounded & nbsp; Toes of his shoes invisible beyond The slope of his corporation.
Walking in the sky,
A man in strange black garb
Encountered a radiant form.
Then his steps were eager;
Bowed he devoutly.
"My Lord," said he.
But the spirit knew him not.
Being walkers with the dawn and morning,
Walkers with the sun and morning,
We are not afraid of night,
Nor days of gloom,
Nor darkness--
Being walkers with the sun and morning.
Wake up for it is no longer dark, a new day has dawned;
Lifted are the covers that hide things from your view.
Time is now ripe for divinity of man to take control,
So open your eyes to behold a wonderous sight!
