Now I will tell Meader’s story; I have a moral in view.
He was pestered by a Grizzly so bold and malicious
That he used to snatch caribou meat from the eaves of the cabin.

 A certain eminent alchemist wrote of that country that it is to be found wherever it has been placed by the first and most important need of the human mind, the same need that called into being geometry and science, philosophy and religion, morality and art. The above-mentioned alchemist—he was an ally of Descartes—also wrote that the name of the country 

Faithful mother tongue
I have been serving you.
Every night, I used to set before you little bowls of colors

“So lasting they are, the rivers!” Only think. Sources somewhere in the mountains pulsate and springs seep from a rock, join in a stream, in the current of a river, and the river flows through centuries, millennia.

On the banks of the beautiful Loire,
There was my birth and my cradle.
Two kinds of goods flow from that land:

Faithful mother tongue
I have been serving you.
Every night, I used to set before you little bowls of colors

Why am I so sad?
Often I have enjoyed the rain,
but for the last week

My friend stops his father
in the doorway, asks him
to show me the numbers burned

Red bones, golden bones,
reduced bones.
Bones spark. Gray shards

Should the gusts of wind come this way then tell them
There’s nothing here that they could take away with them
There’s nothing here that someone could look at and think:
If only this were ours, too