Jonathan, O Jonathan
Margaret Avison
The spokes1 of sun
have pronged and spun2:
a bowling3 barrowpaddle-wheelor rein（缰绳，驾驭）
held taut4（拉紧的，整洁的） . Careening
early this morning
shod hooves flaked5 the loose tiles. Sky opened. Horning
farness flooded through.
The high-swivelling（旋转） blue,
the wet-clay cumulus（堆积） , and the rough fleur-de-lys
fringing it, ensource
an unroofed universe,
lettuce-cool largeness. The wrenched6 miles swing and course,
rivers of speed.
The oven-bread
of earth smokes rainbows. Blind stars and swallows parade
the windy sky of streets
and cheering beats
down faintly（微弱地，模糊地） , to leaves in sticks, insects in pleats
and pouches7（小袋） hidden
and micro-garden.
At the kitchen-door of their forwardfold backslidden
munching8（用力咀嚼） wishes, men,
shouting and TOPpling
smokestacks（烟囱） like Saturday children, suddenly crane
for the still make-wish.
Where the roofs slope and flash
are hearts pungent9（辛辣的，尖刻的） and herbal for the sungold wheels to crush.
