Child-Sight

The luminous fish swim the dark sea,

And shimmering birds swim the dull air;

The dark grass is lit with yellow stars,

The tiger flashes in its dim lair.

The lights make delicate palaces

Of the black towers in the high town;

Between the drear leaves of night and night

The blossom sun opens and hangs down.

A light in all darkness, a soft dream

About all hardness. Why then the fear

Of long quiet after the short din?

Bright birds will skim death, bright fish will veer.