The birds of summer persist like wild beasts, with spring in their feathers, towards the sun---Their eyes the source of fire, the lapping earth rounded by the flapping horizon. They are the strays and exiles, princes and princesses of another country, who, come to tell stories of the first star being born.
How divine to see the night swallow its own shadows and spit out its own shade!
The birds in restless rapture, spread their wings with great honesty and the high gathering  of dust carries a hymn of...