Sol 5.6

  1. And a day in a mantle whose necklaces are hailstones,

    its cords drawn from the rain’s trailing fringe.

  2. The sky scatters it; then from it

    the earth at once strings every scattered bead.

  3. Thus it mimics mouths—their gleaming front teeth—in color and

    delicacy, sweet saliva, and danger.

  4. And the embers in our brazier resemble it

    indeed, in the sparks they scatter:

  5. as if those sparks were gold

    filings flying from a graver’s strokes.

  6. The cloud weeps, thunder laughs, and

    lightning sustains the smile of a bashful beauty.

  7. Between us lies a many-colored meadow,

    where delightful verse or story grows;

  8. its written dots are its blossoms, and

    mouths are the calyces of that fruit.

Sol 5.6