Mature Fruit
Mature Fruit
In the transparent lake
Blooming apple trees
Love desires
In the burning of the midday Sun
Insubordinate
All days and hours
Star clothing
All the words
Chrysalides
Of my soul the variations
I wear
Fingered fingers
They wrap me up
The uprooted flowers
Which the storm scattered
I stoop and gather with compassion
In the garden of the earth the harmony
Love, beauty
The calm lips of love
Flowers
That touches me
With noble courtesy anonymously
True, weighed
A silver-haired hope
The new life, the silence in mind
Of a tranquil tree
Ripe fruit will be done