We present this work in honor of the poet’s 135th birthday.

 

My words, where are you now? What say you to me?
Come to my rescue, I’m delirious, don’t let me be.
What benefit can fulfill this hand’s goal
To claims due of nourishment for my soul.
But all minds of men appear to be in retreat
Faced with a gesture of solidarity so discrete.
In my hands it feels like a budding sheath,
Other times I behold a Gladiola wreathe.
In my mouth, at times it is a cheek so vermillion
Other times it is a kiss, like none in a million.
And my heart, oh my words! What lies within unseen?
Call upon the heavens and see if gods will intervene.
Or remain quiet, because to have silence is better
But then, come! Give! You can do nothing greater!