Caroling Dusk/Summer Matures
SUMMER MATURES
Summer matures. Brilliant ScorpionAppears. The Pelican’s thick pouchHangs heavily with perch and slugs.The brilliant-bellied newt flashesIts crimson crest in the white water.In the lush meadow, by the river,The yellow-freckled toad laughsWith a toothless gurgle at the white-necked storkStanding asleep on one red reedy leg. And here Pan dreams of slim stalks clean for piping,And of a nightingale gone mad with freedom.Come. I shall weave a bed of reedsAnd willow limbs and pale nightflowers.I shall strip the roses of their petals,And the white down from the swan’s neck.Come. Night is here. The air is drunkWith wild grape and sweet clover.And by the sacred fount of AganippeEuterpe sings of love. Ah, the woodland creatures,The doves in pairs, the wild sow and her shoats,The stag searching the forest for a mate,Know more of love than you, my callous Phaon.The young moon is a curved white scimitarPierced thru the swooning night.Sweet Phaon. With Sappho sleep like the stars at dawn.This night was born for love, my Phaon.Come.