I

The rippled nut 

with which you play, 

fallen from the walnut tree, 

did not bear witness tothe Earth.

I found it in the pasture; 

it didn't know who I was. 

Cast from the sky, 

the visionless one was ignorant 

of its plight.

With it my possession, 

I danced upon the green, 

hut it was deaf and did not hear 

the horses running.

Don't disturb it.

A season of night lulls it to sleep. 

When spring arrives, 

you will split it open; 

you will return it, unaware, 

to God's world;

you will shout its name 

and the name of the Earth.

II

But he split it open 

without waiting, 

and saw the dust fall 

from the hollow walnut:

his hand filled

with dark death, 

and he sobbed and sobbed 

the entire night.

III

Let's bury it 

under the grass 

before spring comes. 

Perhaps, in passing, 

the God of life 

will see it, 

and with His hands touch 

the Earth's dead one.
 
 
 

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Page last edited February 14, 2000
by: PhoneBoy