The readers who orbit a poem, each —
Each in the ambit of his talents —
Has sent his native language to a breach,
And waits for a return, listening for balance.
As intermittent suns revolving out of reach,
Stanzas in the form of a recurring fire
Suggest the periodicity of an outlier:
Liar, lyre, lye that leaves day charred, night bleached.
Of foreign poems half-heard, half-sensed, the gazer —
Swept towards aphasia in a feverish glimpse —
Sees more collapsing stars, arrays’ erasure,
Familiar words elided in eclipse;
And feels his way among the phrases,
Caesuras ablaze, Logos in a brazier —
Fire in the nature of, because in nature
Ardent verses turn in an ellipse.