Ts'ai Chi'h
The petals fall in the fountain,
the orange coloured rose-leaves,
Their ochre clings to the stone.
This poem is in the public domain.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Simon Zelotes speaking after the Crucifixion. Fere=Mate, Companion.
Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O' ships and the open sea.
I make truce with you, Walt Whitman—
I have detested you long enough.
I come to you as a grown child
Who has had a pig-headed father;
I am old enough now to make friends.
It was you that broke the new wood,
Now is a time for carving.
We have one sap and one root—
Let there be commerce between us.