Aches for Valna’s Coming

Lovely thing motionless,

Two miles away a bird.

Two rivers and a sun

Near a wilderness.

What wandering will be,

What courting of mad hawks?

These are books and petals.

Old violet talks.

And then eighteen.

And then that and that.

Oh Wilfred, in Surrey, 1004

And later: You were not

There. Oh Cynthia,

Greening, grey, big sea,

Reddening, grey, big sea.

Whitening, perceptibly,

Rich wilderness, sky.

Nations await the coming of Frederick, a bird

As big as some pears, African, are.

Emperors quietly in large halls

Wonder how very far

Bee from Brittany is.

Entevole, king of Soona,

Looks to the south and east.

He longs for the coming of

Valna, the very least

Leaf in all that place,

Having 1800 lakes.

There, see the still face

Of Entevole; for he aches

For Valna’s coming.

And maybe Valna’ll come.