These
poems will perish like the shapes of clouds—
(die out, shred, sink,
forevermore—perish);
But
the beauty of God’s earth—greater than all man’s
endeavors, will live on ((such
as the Tierra del Fuego
mountains
of Patagonia) (where nearby I stand in awe))!
They
cry through the words of this fading poem, as if
she goes to meet the approaching
generations
(yet unknown…).
No:
2820 (10-2010)
