Your eyes are
Your eyes are a
clear sky seen from the fish
waiting at the
bottom of a well:
Clouds drift
across its billows, quays
and gulls, falling
swallows,
a spring lark. And
when the underwater
observer moves the
film of the surface ripples
slightly – But
stones that fall
frighten more the
one looking upward
than your cleft
and once more
shieldlike raised
mirror of water
and clouds.
Many a wanderer
has bent down
over you: a dark
face seen against dreams;
relieved his
thirst and muddied
the flowing vein
of clearness;
but gone on his
way with water-touched tongue
and firstly
raising a cairn.
No comments:
Post a Comment