The Sun

Each day the yellow sun rises over the hill.

The woods glow, the dark beast,

Man: hunter or shepherd.

Blood-fish surface in the teeming pond.

Under the dome of heaven

the fisherman drifts in his blue boat.

The grapes ripen slowly, the corn.

When day slumps to a close,

Good and Evil are poised.

Night falls.

The wanderer lifts his heavy eyelids.

The sun breaks from the dark ditch.