Born of several sires and estuaries,
spontaneous fame, we jump by art untaught
yet davening in the reeds,
studious taliban of the tides!
Old Walter sits buddha-like in the bay,
a Bamiyan of stern brow threatening looks,
as we little fish flee,
doing good acts heedlessly!
The land fattens off the screen of reeds,
which themselves browse the cooling flood of the bay;
fishermen, although we are not friends...
a world is good which hold thee!
--
No comments:
Post a Comment