Children

The sky is in bloom,
Blossoms wake to trembling light;
Why take to the shade?

I lay by a trunk,
Ever firm it spurns the world;
But what could it fear?

Leaves fly in the wind,
But the limp fruits love they most,
The branches of yore

Insolent rivers:
Curse their glee but mourn the time
From whence comes the sea;

Soft is the leaf's temper
Made sturdy only in death
But life takes its course;