The early evening star
The muse of three ivory words
Tied to one gravity of reason—
Tied to the gold pollen
Of birth and rebirth and rebirth.
The trillium and all her creamy luck
Equal in truth—unbiased, measured, even
And blooming silver on all three faces
Of muse. Serving sincerity
On all three plates of heaven.
The trio of power, wisdom, clarity
Paralleling the blonde expressions
Of stars—and the outstretched
Limbs of stars—
Blooming and bedding against
A warm cliff—Soft on a poetic landscape;
Unfolding
On a precipice, leaning clear over its demise:
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
evolving poem - loved it! the analogies, description. i read in Townshend's journal: the trio's wonderful imaginings: music, words, flight. this could be equivalent for the poet. good stuff, Sus.