I found a ball of grass among the hay / And progged it as I passed and went away; /And…
In the beginning Love satisfies us.
/ When Love first spoke to me of love –
/ How I laughed at her in return!…
The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
/ The lark’s is a clarion-call,
/ And the blackbird plays but…
You hold the sapling straight, backfill,
/ heel it in. A rainbow
/ pours from the watering can.
a springtime ash, whose leaves emerge from black
/ an unlocked ash, so profligate with keys…
We would be snaking up Loch Lomond, the
/ road narrow and winding after the turn at Tarbert,
/ and we’d be bending branches…
As spiders haul their thread from stem
/ to stem to weave the light, what do they care
/ if all that skilful labour’s…
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing.
Its light is in the grass,
/ Its yearning in the white gull’s cry
Edge out of the night
/ and contemplate one of nature’s
/ most sublime spectacles…
for Ginny Duncan
/ The paddy fields stretch beyond the horizon.
/ Where water glitters, palm trees dance.
/ Where egrets and herons flap after fish,
je suis le bruissement du monde
/ le balancement entre ici et ailleurs
/ la frondaison muette du cactus
/ le bois rugueux qui recouvre le…