First we irradiate the roots.
And discover their dependence
On a huge boulder. And that tree
And stone, their resplendence,
Become a river and island. The river
And island are blood and the heart.
It is a bright day. The sun blazes
Your eyes. Nothing remains apart.
The river is flowing to the sea.
The windmills are turning, the smoke
Dissipates, the sound of the water,
The green dapple of the oak.
Yaacov David Shulman