Classic Poem

Sweetly sang those bright plumed birds the flowers
To the half-ripe corn in the fields:
" Why do you disguise yourself, drinker of darkness?
" Put on your golden robes. "
(Beautiful was the song of those bright feathered ones
In the ruddy twilight of the cornfield.)
" Now has the shining water of heaven descended,
" And bright-eyed Drought has rasped on his belly.
" The cypress tree has become a jewelled feather.
" There came little snakes of water, wriggling in the dust,
" Then pools bright as peacock-eyes. "

Beautiful was the song of those bright feathered ones.
But the corn cried, uncertain:
" I have come to the place where the roads meet.
" Where shall I go? Which way shall I now take?
" It may be that I shall go hence and perish.
" My heart is all green jade:
" When shall I see gold? "