At the hour when dreams come true,
at the first sweet glimmer of dawn,
I saw lips that opened
leaf by leaf.
A slim sickle shone in the sky.
I feared it would mow them down.
from “Summer Solstice,” part three of Three Secret Poems,
translated by Walter Kaiser.
Whether it gets dark
the jasmine stays
Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard.
NB: Some down-to-earth observers of the heavens will note that the sickle framed in jasmine is setting in the west and not rising in the east but that shouldn't distract them from noticing the celestialness of these two pieces.