Not merely a spring.
Having entered the blood,
The very soul of the planet
Will cleanse the slag, strengthen
And resurrect.
Leaving the withered bouquets,
It will hurry to the sea with the ocean.

So that from there, lifted to the sky onto the clouds
Earth’s soul (and what would you call it?)
Took energy from the sun,
Returned downward, gave it to the soils.

Our bouquet will wither.
Or with a happy aftertaste,
That on Earth the project of Life
Was impossible without us?