<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Ruddy Kingfisher<\/strong><\/p>\n You follow the edge of bird\u2019s stringy trills pace by pace; The tremolos of calls reroll and re-echo at dawn and dusk as visit moments of Eos and Nyx You can\u2019t yet catch the finicky bird burning, sliding in a jade stream, something of what is scrummy, eerie. In the ancient manuscript, you once came across With aridness in March, bowed moss loses In such a day, the wings guide fickle squall from the sky. Its flap shadow isn\u2019t yet known for you. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\nthe sound descending into rank bracken ferns
\nand datura flowers under leaves of wild papayas.<\/p>\n
\nin your ears through humid monsoon bringing rain
\nas if in Bellinati\u2019s music in deep woodlands<\/p>\n
\nwho wander the West to the East, try to explore
\nuntrampled places. The goddesses search for their calls.<\/p>\n
\nin mid-air, not a phoenix but a real omnivore
\ningesting a striped ant on the ground, a toad<\/p>\n
\nYou heard that its petite tail flirts with itself
\non a splotchy perch, percussing emptiness.<\/p>\n
\nan image of its red beak like a sheath,
\nfar from your vibrations of its mystic notes.<\/p>\n
\na sheen, sapless leaves quiver lightly
\non branches, each frond is barren for a moment.<\/p>\n
\nto sleeping jungles with trills. It\u2019s old lore,
\ntoday the thirsty woods await dear water<\/p>\n
\nCold dew drops on your forehead. Fresh showers come, fall and fall:
\ntransparent song brings prayers, then rain, then green.<\/p>\n