Where Once the Waters of your Face: Response
Damn your dry eyes! Damn your unforgiving glance!
We divers need not bear the tides in frequent doses;
Here, splash your corralled beds and green fruit,
while children frolic with their shadows:
Say boo and we progenitors unwind the woven seine
you imagine you thought up, brought home as souvenir –
Fishermen will cast their nets, believing or not,
And I will eat their catch while you wish for sacred tears.