Hothouse

O greenhouse in the middle of the forests!

And your doors forever sealed!

And all that there is under your dome!

And in my soul, in your analogies!

The thoughts of a hungry princess,

The boredom of a sailor in the desert,

A blaring, metallic

music at the windows of the incurably ill.

Go to the coolest

corners!

One would say a woman who disappeared one harvest day,

There are horse drivers in the courtyard of the hospital.

In the distance passes a deer hunter who has become a nurse

Examine it in the moonlight.

Oh, nothing is in its right place.

One would say a crazy woman before judges,

A warship under full sail on a canal

Some night birds on some lilies

The tolling of a bell toward noontime

(there under the glass bells!)

A halting of sick people in the plain

The odor of ether one sunny day

My God, My God! When will we have rain

And snow and wind inside the hothouse!