Coming of Spring (Section 1, p13)
TWO APRIL FULL MOONS
THE FIRST
Bright spring night.
All windows wide open to coolness. All pitchers
brimming with thick sap.
And as three miller’s daughters shake out
big comforters, their colorful bedding begins to smell of
forest breezes.
You three miller’s daughters, you red-haired sisters,
you won’t sleep anyway tonight!
Tuck up your pleated skirts and, holding hands,
run by the river — — —
Tarred trough-like dugouts rocking; somewhere
amid the reeds Vandenis whistling; an enormous
full moon rattles over the wooden bridge.
Then once again stones start to grind in the old
watermill:
Big barefoot ghosts sit on beams and sift flour
through white birch sieves.
Because tonight three miller’s daughters roll up
their sleeves and knead sweet Easter breads.
Note: Vandenis is a male water-spirit in Lithuanian folklore.
THE SECOND
Through an old garden, lost angels wander.
Their sky-blue eyes wide open in wonder.
For the first time, they see earth.
— Evening now. And down forgotten paths,
a yellow moon rolls — heavy and damp with dew.
Grayed chestnut trees light rosy candles and kneel
in tall grass, like pilgrims not having found the way.
The chestnuts pray silently. Their ancient heavy
rosaries reach the ground.
That same night, dusty mail coaches fly through
vast forests — — —
Young drivers crack long whips!
Their silvery shoe buckles scintillate in moonlight,
and their disheveled hair is flecked with catkins —
Through an old garden, lost angels wander and
see earth for the first time.
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