The raw grass verdure breaks through
The golden clay of our carving.
Modeled flesh of the leaves on martyr trees
Seals of the metamorphosis.
The sap of the plants...drops of life in the inert trunks...
Wild flowers bursting into a love dance of the sun,
The shadow of the woods, rustling in the whispering of the frisky wind,
The vibration of the imaginary staves touched by the trill of the birds,
The silk of the gown, tempting waving of thighs...
Over flooding of edenic light...
The hope for the resurrection of the soul and body,
Too far beyond the verdure.