Al Que Quiere!/To a Solitary Disciple

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<poem> Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is tilted above the point of the steeple than that its color is shell-pink.

Rather observe that it is early morning than that the sky is smooth as a turquoise.

Rather grasp how the dark converging lines of the steeple meet at the pinnacle— perceive how its little ornament

tries to stop them—

See how it fails!
See how the converging lines
of the hexagonal spire
escape upward—
receding, dividing!
that guard and contain
the flower!

how motionless
the eaten moon
lies in the protecting lines.

It is true:
in the light colors
of morning
brown-stone and slate
shine orange and dark blue.

But observe
the oppressive weight
of the squat edifice!
the jasmine lightness
of the moon.