Translating the Ordinary

The life in the tree poured a year of grief in your hand.
How sadly you laughed then, shaking a leaf to the sea.

Do you remember what it was like to be a young man?
Feeling your heart (old poet and thief!) so warm, so free?

A girl with golden hair has gone out crossing the sands:
She wanders the desert, calling loud her father’s plea.

You have spun your thoughts like petals in this springtime land.
A crown of daisies—oh, stop, you wildflower bee!

The sun is causing the city-dwellers to feel grand.
Even you, Elizabeth, cracked a smile at me.