Down the long, wide

Sky-horse plough rides,

From one past to another,

Demon-slow and angel-fast,

Droughtbreaker comes:


On electric-jagged legs

Singing thunder,

Bruising heaven.


Big traffic is

On the hoard roads;

I hear the cries of

Passing geese,

But belles will laugh,

Will curtsey and tumble

Before dawn.

And, rest assured,

Full moon will settle

The millpond surface again.




2 thoughts on “Droughtbreaker

  1. assia7 says:

    your descriptions are so fantastic and in the same time I can see them in my mind! After a hard work of translation! Thanks, you allow me to dream!

    • beeseeker says:

      many thanks, some of this comes from one of those magical moments … I was there observing … but also from some translation work I once did with a Polish teacher who described an approaching thunderstorm as “walking on legs”. It was coming in over the sea (near Dover); there followed an intense discussion about similes and metaphors and poetic language.

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