Sunday, May 1, 2016

Color transfer







     A bird cried out among the first things of the morning.
     I dreamed about murders all night long.

     The stone changed color among the shadows as the sun came up.
     It was the bird's cry that startled up the stone.
























David Ferry
Of No Country I Know
  New and Selected Poems
  and Translations
    A Morning Song
University of Chicago Press, 1999©
op. cit.






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