This tree’s leaf, that from the East,
Has been entrusted to my garden,
Gives to savor secret sense,
As pleasing the initiate.
Is it one living creature,
Which separated in itself?
Are they two, who choose themselves,
To be recognized as one?
Such query to reciprocate,
I surely found the proper use,
Do not you feel it in my songs,
That I am one and double?
Even my begonias in the outside planter faded overnight.
1 comment:
Lovely photos! Thank you. I apologize for the length, but I was reminded of this poem by Howard Nemerov (which you may already know):
The Consent
Late in November, on a single night
Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees
That stand along the walk drop all their leaves
In one consent, and neither to rain nor to wind
But as though to time alone: the golden and green
Leaves litter the lawn today, that yesterday
Had spread aloft their fluttering fans of light.
What signal from the stars? What senses took it in?
What in those wooden motives so decided
To strike their leaves, to down their leaves,
Rebellion or surrender? and if this
Can happen thus, what race shall be exempt?
What use to learn the lessons taught by time,
If a star at any time may tell us: Now.
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