How imperfectly does the spring bring
This one flower; see it is a little withered
By lack of sunlight or too
Or small bug sipping at it’s vein
You cut it and put it in a vase, anyway,
Shake off the dew and the ants.
It will only last a day.
How imperfectly do I come, in the spring
All winter I lay in my den-
I did not sleep,
Though I dreamed.
I will come to you then, at once hollow and
Yet so full of fragments.
There was too much sunlight or too much rain
You will lay me beside you
In a bed as soft as petals.
It will only last a day