“April is the cruelest month”* no, no
my honored, because of our growing older.
And some say “The words we know.
And nothing’s new. Just memories
and impossible desires” Listen!
The drum(bayonet) how strikes in moss.
Without any ambush. Listen!
The bullet against the wind.
Sadoku’s roots are fixed
into the sea. And there’s no death
soil. Beyond dispute we grow older.
And everything comes back into uncaused.
Mud into mud. Blossom into blossom.
The child is dozing in the corner. Like a sparrow.
The door is opening. And enter
the old Hebrews. They’re sitting down
and something start to sing.
*T. S. Elliot
Sadoku – Japanese morello. It blooms only in April