Ode to Maize
America, from a grain
of maize you grew
to
with spacious lands
the o foam.
A grain of maize was yeography.
From the grain
a green lance rose,
was covered with gold,
to grace the heights
of Peru with its yellow tassels.
But, poet, let
history rest in its shroud;
praise with your lyre
the grain in its granaries:
sing to the simple maize i.
First, a fine beard
fluttered in the field
above the teeeth
of the young ear.
Then the husks parted
and fruitfulness burst its veils
of pale papyrus
that grains of laughter
might fall upon the earth.
To the stone,
in your journey,
you returned.
Not to the terrible stone,
the bloody
triangle of Mexi death,
but to the grinding stone,
sacred
stone of your kits.
There, milk and matter,
strength-giving, nutritious
eal pulp,
you were worked and patted
by the wondrous hands
of dark-skinned women.
Wherever you fall, maize,
whether into the
splendid pot of partridge, or among
try beans, you light up
the meal and len……（内容加载失败！）
(ò﹏ò)
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谢谢!!!