Mode : Lu
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 !
—sepals
that guard and contain
the flower !
Observe
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 !
Observe
the jasmine lightness
of the moon.