A LITTLE TRANSLATION
1
Silver lands, wind breathing shivers
raindrops from black branches.
Puddle sky shudders.
These words fade, returning silence.
Raven slow, arcs vast horizons
In her bright, dark eye.
2
Turn over and sleep and
turn again.
Mind dreams on
Weaving its own worlds.
Root chant,
Bird’s feather heart.
Everlasting communion.
3
Wind roars.
Green buds.
The mountains
Full of rain.
There is brightness
In the air.
Hedgerows
Woven with birdsong.
Remembering a bygone tune,
The old man pauses,
Lost in memory,
And then forgetting.
—
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