The First Time With You
The first time I saw you,
It was wandering with a right leg amputated,
Without passions my mind was erased,
And I saw it customary to see into
Legality and all the beauty that was on the books
So found by my grace and fortune.
Nevertheless, an air of astonishment replied
To the gestures I discerned,
Civilisation sees and listens to first men
And second men and third agencies.
The right leg had requests,
And my legs were without doubt
The realisations and the worlds
Of words and deeds that I love.
But then it was wandering with you
That incredulously belittled my environment,
Those troops were not monkeys or moles,
But the meticulous merriment of monsters
Properly battled and properness
Had to be a reading ability
For the rich and poor alike.
My legs were not as many after the war,
And the war was a past affair.
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