Sylvestre

SYLVESTRE:
FROM THE FRENCH OF TISANE TASSANI


When I drink from the sap of the tall evergreen
And I feel the cool Earth enter my veins
In gratitude – what can this gratefulness be?
And who for, but for the being of the tree?
The woodlands where I walk are so green,
With so many species of bird and animal
That in awe I draw back from all explanation
And drink from my five senses, as from a well.

I have no flock to care for – I am a woodlander
In five-hundred year old thickets & unfathomable glades
No congregation or pastor joins me here
And there are no young folk to go on promenades:
Then, let me give to each perfectly formed leaf my blessing
That together we make the sweetest murmuring.


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