Translated by Charles Wright

    The lemon bushes overflowed¹

    with the patter of mole² paws，

    the scythe³ shined

    in its rosary of cautious water drops.

    A dot， a ladybug，

    ignited above the quince berries

    as the snort of a rearing pony⁴ broke through，

    bored with his rub-down-then the dream took over.

    Kidnapped， and weightless， I was drenched

    with you， your outline

    was my hidden breath， your face

    merged with my face， and the dark

    idea of God descended

    upon the living few， amid heavenly

    sounds， amid childish drums，

    amid suspended globes of lightning

    upon me， upon you， and over the lemons……