What To Do For A Baby With Flem?

Wallace Stevens. Sunday Morning. 3.


3 Jove in the clouds Had His inhuman birth.
No mother suckles him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his kinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.

3
Iove en las nubes tiene su nacimiento inhumano.
No hubo madre que lo amamantara no sweet land gave
movement of large mythical modes
to mind. He moved among us like a king
silent, magnificent, would move among his peers
Until our blood, come, virginal,
with heaven, brought such a condition to wish
the same time discerning a star.
Do you fail our blood? Or will become
The blood of paradise? "And the earth will be like paradise
all we know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
partly work, partly penalty following
and glory to endure love,
not matter whether this blue divide.