When the moon lit up it
Swung around the apartments,
Seven times
Looking at the boys and the girls—
It was mad since it had stolen the light
From the muse who didn't love him—
Stolen the light given to the
Bosom of the waves,
To the girls upon the merry-go-rounds,
As the deer fed themselves in the
Pussy-willows,
And the grasshoppers fled off from
Leaf to leaf,
Missing the bare, tanned legs of the
Indians they used to have running among
Them—
As the Earth spun and spun
Like a wild pony trying to give itself to
A blue lion it found itself in love with,
But who refused to wake up
For just about any one—
As the blue eyes of just one angel bled
And bled through the sky,
And last as long as the early part of
The century—
And for a while after the beautiful
Automobiles began to awaken and purr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
bled through the sky. I like it. thanks.