2 Lullaby

Lustily born on a gusty night,
Engaging the gale
With grasshopper calling, your first rite
To yield a wail,
Baby, in mourning never persist,
Rest, you exist.
The earth endures the air.
A living man must bear.

Your mother lies eclipsed, asleep,
Beyond to-day
That voice will tediously keep
Count of your play.
Armies illusive she'll disband
With stick and hand.
As summer thirsts the tree
Love tends contrarily.

Extend yourself in the cradle's space.
You'll share a nest
In face to foot and foot to face
Alternate rest.
Your extra steps will chip the dust
Of the yard's crust,
A wanderer excess
In urchin idleness.

Judicious baby, be content
In ribbon breeding,
In pocket-carried wonderment
Of pavement feeding:
A bush or two of sad laurel
Your pastoral.
To this chaotic cage
Will fly your longing age.

After a life of little joys
Merged among men,
Or from slaved comfort, erased noise,
You'll come again,
Possessed of cars, complete ill-will,
Or lulling still
The wraith that grieved in you
When slavery was new.