Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Raw, Well-Cooked, and Burnt

You ask, Why do you cry
with such sweetness all around?

I weep as I make the honey,
wearing the shirt of the bee,
and I refuse to share this suffering.

I play the sky's harp.
I curl around my treasure like a snake.

You say, What is this I business?
Friend, I've been a long time away from that.

What you see here is your own reflection.
I am still raw, and at the same time
well-cooked, and burnt to a crisp.

No one can tell if I'm laughing
or weeping. I wonder myself.
How can I be separated and yet in union?