O force of nature, start of the season,
In my loveliest trails of thought is hidden you.
That is the secret, that is the wonder of a cherry-tree,
To eternally visit and commend to all trained in seeing.
I observe an item of gold, growing on the tree,
And plucking is computed by the brain of brains.
I master the hand to revoltingly defend my strain,
And all the time cherries come flying towards me.
O force of the ever-real, where is your majesty?
Help me if you can, bestow longevity on my sleep.
If the salt is bitter on the tongue then sleep is sweeter
Than the repose in heaven, those marshy waters of dancing.
O feeling one, the seeds are sown tonight when I sail
Towards the city-port to observe the overwhelming harpooning,
The whales are at bars, at stares and worse, the auction is on,
And their life in danger, so cancel the afternoon of my desire.
This time it rains, and cherries are of the ocean and light,
Gold has begun to politically speak, and rains on us tonight.
We are sleeping in the water as we seep, sleeping towards the stars
At night, like a false image of the genders and races and fixtures.
Topic(s) of this poem: health