Susa literatura - Poesia kaiera

This day winding down now / At God speeded summer’s end / In the torrent salmon sun, / In my seashaken house / On a breakneck of rocks / Tangled with chirrup and fruit, / Froth, flute, fin, and quill / At a wood’s dancing hoof, / By scummed, starfish sands / With their fishwife cross / Gulls, pipers, cockles, and sails, / Out there, crow black, men / Tackled with clouds, who kneel / To the sunset nets, / Geese nearly in heaven, boys / Stabbing, and herons, and shells / That speak seven seas, / Eternal waters away / From the cities of nine / Days’ night whose towers will catch / In the religious wind / Like stalks of tall, dry straw, / At poor peace I sing / To you strangers (though song / Is a burning and crested act, / The fire of birds in / The world’s turning wood, / For my swan, splay sounds), / Out of these seathumbed leaves / That will fly and fall / Like leaves of trees and as soon / Crumble and undie / Into the dogdayed night. / Seaward the salmon, sucked sun slips, / And the dumb swans drub blue / My dabbed bay’s dusk, as I hack / This rumpus of shapes / For you to know / How I, a spining man, / Glory also this star, bird / Roared, sea born, man torn, blood blest. / Hark: I trumpet the place, / From fish to jumping hill! Look: / I build my bellowing ark / To the best of my love / As the flood begins, / Out of the fountainhead / Of fear, rage read, manalive, / Molten and mountainous to stream / Over the wound asleep / Sheep white hollow farms // To Wales in my arms. / Hoo, there, in castle keep, / You king singsong owls, who moonbeam / The flickering runs and dive / The dingle furred deer dead! / Huloo, on plumbed bryns, / O my ruffled ring dove / In the hooting, nearly dark / With Welsh and reverent rook, / Coo rooning the woods’ praise, / Who moons her blue notes from her nest / Down to the curlew herd! / Ho, hullaballoing clan / Agape, with woe / In your beaks, on the gabbing capes! / Heigh, on horseback hill, jack / Whisking hare! who / Hears, there, this fox light, my flood ship’s / Clangour as I hew and smite / (A clash of anvils for my / Hubbub and fiddle, this tune / On a tounged puffball) / But animals thick as thieves / On God’s rough tumbling grounds / (Hail to His beasthood!). / Beasts who sleep good and thin, / Hist, in hogback woods! The haystacked / Hollow farms in a throng / Of waters cluck and cling, / And barnroofs cockcrow war! / O kingdom of neighbors finned / Felled and quilled, flash to my patch / Work ark and the moonshine / Drinking Noah of the bay, / With pelt, and scale, and fleece: / Only the drowned deep bells / Of sheep and churches noise / Poor peace as the sun sets / And dark shoals every holy field. / We will ride out alone, and then, / Under the stars of Wales, / Cry, Multiudes of arks! Across / The water lidded lands, / Manned with their loves they’ll move, / Like wooden islands, hill to hill. / Huloo, my prowed dove with a flute! / Ahoy, old, sea-legged fox, / Tom tit and Dai mouse! / My ark sings in the sun / At God speeded summer’s end / And the flood flowers now.