On the whitewashed wall
a play written by the wind and light
the shadows of the vine
greener than the word March
the mask of the afternoon
absorbed in the calligraphy of birds
between the quivering grates of reflections
I am in love with this world
stumble lost in myself
craving wholeness craving indifference
to open my eyes
impeccable evidence
among the clarities that dispute it
Not the abolition of images
the incarnation of pronouns
the world we invent among us
a community of signs
and at its center
the recluse
Perpetua encarnata
half-woman
half spring in the rocks...
from "A Tale of Two Gardens" by Octavio Paz
translated by Eliot Weinberger
Princess Haiku spent the day in a blur of a spring garden with Octavio Paz and poetry so exquisite it went perfectly with chilled champagne.
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