Green rings around the eyes, this grass in vibrant motion <br />arcs tenderly about you, at a distance- <br />you summon it, then fling it round, broken <br />by your laugh of youth and innocence. <br /> <br />Stretched under you, this curling dome of grass <br />would sound its voices in the gravel- <br />but you are unaware - and now you pass <br />through foreign stars, a fool.<br /><br />Nichita Stanescu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/field-in-spring/
