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Hush little baby. Forty-six years now
the night has rocked itself in my empty cradle
Now a gray head is rocked to sleep with the same tune:
Standing at the cradle’s head
No angel with two white wings…
You Will Be Wrapped in Silk
“And how do you merit to live so long?”
—Because I know there is need to consider.
At my birth someone said, “He will be wrapped
in silk.” And now the guests are…
On the other side of the poem there is an orchard,
and in the orchard, a house with a roof of straw,
and three pine trees,
three watchmen who never speak, standing guard.
On the other side of the…