The lark had heard it from the meadow grasses ,
The grasses from the wind , the wind from the reeds ;
The reeds had seen it written in the water
By the long drooping fingers of the willow ;
The willow heard it from the singing river ;
But where the river heard it , who can tell ?
I cannot read the secret in the water —
Come now to me my sudden kingfisher ,
Come as my master , my interpreter :
Teach me to listen , teach me to decipher .
That I may grow at last to share that secret
Written by willow fingers in the water ,
Told by the reeds to the wind , by the wind to the grasses ,
And so by the sweet meadow grasses to the morning lark .
17 June 1954