~ ESCLAMATION

The moon wide open.
Horse of still clouds,
and the grey ring of dreams
with willows on the riverbank.

I will not see you!

Let my memory kindle!
Warm the jasmines
of such minute whiteness!

I will not see you!

The phantasm of the ancient world
passed her sad tongue
over a tear of blood
spilled on the sand
of recollection.

I will not see you!

Partly death and partly stone,
bellowed like two centuries
sated with treading the earth,
I am the strangler
of your dreams.

Now I will see you!
As I erupt with my seeding force.