A Milkweed
Anonymous as cherubs
Over the crib of God,
White seeds are floating
Out of my burst pod.
What power had I
Before I learned to yield?
Shatter me, great wind:
I shall possess the field.
A Stone
As casual as cow-dung
Under the crib of God,
I lie where chance would have me,
Up to the ears in sod.
Why should I move? To move
Befits a light desire.
The sill of Heaven would founder,
Did such as I aspire.
Charming. I like this poet's soul. It is not angry, it is not petty. He seems to look around himself and take pleasure in what he sees or finds reason to find that pleasure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As casual as cow-dung Under the crib of God, I lie where chance would have me, Up to the ears in sod. Why should I move? To move Befits a light desire. powerful observations. tony