Early Dusk
The moon is as frail as a disk of cobwebs,
The willows are scarcely green among the meadows
Where a thousand paper pennons wave above the crops
And the black oxen walk slowly homeward beside the still canals,
In the distant sky a kite is tugging at its string,
The rooks caw among their nests in the treetops,
Above the doors set deep in russet walls
Droop broken branches of faint green willow,
And the men and girls come from their work in the fields
Carrying sprays of flowering almond in their hands.
The willows are scarcely green among the meadows
Where a thousand paper pennons wave above the crops
And the black oxen walk slowly homeward beside the still canals,
In the distant sky a kite is tugging at its string,
The rooks caw among their nests in the treetops,
Above the doors set deep in russet walls
Droop broken branches of faint green willow,
And the men and girls come from their work in the fields
Carrying sprays of flowering almond in their hands.
