The dawn has unloosed the sky from the earth
and at its clear soft word
the beetles, the children
come tumbling out into the light of day;
no haze in the atmosphere,
the sparkling lightness floats everywhere.
During the night, like butterflies,
the leaves have settled on the trees.


Blue, red, yellow poly-daubed
pictures I saw in my dreams,
and I felt: this is the way of things,
not a floating dust-speck’s out of place.
Now gloom-like my dream spreads out to my limbs
and the iron world’s the way.
By day a moon rises in me and when it’s night
outside—a sun shines here within.


I am thin, just bread I eat sometimes;
among these frivolous prattling souls
it’s for nothing that I seek something more sure
than the throw of the dice.
There’s no roast shoulder of beef nuzzling at
my lips, or child at my heart.
For all its skill the cat can’t catch mice
outside and inside at the same time.