Circles within circles We ride through them all Circles within circles "In the midst of the Southern regions..." There a man rests and weeps This year, next year, Sometimes, Never, oh never If we think then that there is No joy But listen: On the edge of winds Is the rustling of the greens All many greens, manifold and lovely The sighing and crying of the wind The lovely boughs The lovely light The lovely light The lovely stars, jewelly nobles The pitted starheads of a burning fire Than any other fires we know The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight The plumed bird, lovely voiced The streaked cat, rooted hairshine Head of furlight Purr of bright sound Lovely and noble, jewelly lords So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights Little houses of fire In little towns of fire Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes
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