Summer Grass
Summer grass was brown that day
we marked the lambs and sheared the ewes.
I put aside my mythic songs and play.
We turned our hands to summer’s work.
Powdered dung-dust sucked the juice
from our throats, discouraging remarks
and idle chatter. Despite the sun
I felt chills in the stifling shed.
Something stirred that slept in the dark
rooms of my mind. It seemed that stone
hunched my shoulders and bowed my head.
I quarreled with my heaviness,
blamed it on eating improper food,
blinding myself to my unease.
White Sheep Shearing -- Antanas Adomaitis
Summer grass was brown that day
we marked the lambs and sheared the ewes.
I put aside my mythic songs and play.
We turned our hands to summer’s work.
Powdered dung-dust sucked the juice
from our throats, discouraging remarks
and idle chatter. Despite the sun
I felt chills in the stifling shed.
Something stirred that slept in the dark
rooms of my mind. It seemed that stone
hunched my shoulders and bowed my head.
I quarreled with my heaviness,
blamed it on eating improper food,
blinding myself to my unease.
White Sheep Shearing -- Antanas Adomaitis
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