THE TREE
Mitchell S. (Mitchell Starrett) Buck translation
STRIPPED of my clothes, I climbed into a tree; my bare thighs embraced the smooth, moist bark; my sandals trod upon the branches.
At the top, yet under the leaves and shadowed from the heat, I sat astride a projecting branch and balanced my feet in the void.
It rained. The water drops fell and slipped over my skin. My hands were stained with moss and my toes were reddened from crushed flowers.
When the wind passed through the branches I felt the fair life of the tree; then I pressed my legs yet closer and laid my open lips upon the hairy nape of a bough.