Calling me to you with wild gesturings
will come, blighting our harbingers of spring,snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snowTo run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
Only a fox whose den I cannot find.Centimeters—that the height of the canvas
Close at the end of distance the two ChoseStill has to be intoned, as in a lonely
The edge of that other square cut from the rightSo you can watch me watch uplifted snow
So, startled, quivering,Again awaken from your being gone to find
I seek, above all, in the wanderingOh you builders,
Snow haze gleams like sand.Of observation lying on the ground
Only a whiter absence to my mind,That rings, with faithful tongue, its pious note