The Fish | Text of the Poem

wade
through black jade.
     Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
     adjusting the ash-heaps;
    opening and shutting itself like     5

an
injured fan.
     The barnacles which encrust the side
     of the wave, cannot hide
     there for the submerged shafts of the     10

sun,
split like spun
     glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
     into the crevices—
     in and out, illuminating     15

the
turquoise sea
     of bodies. The water drives a wedge
     of iron through the iron edge
     of the cliff; whereupon the stars,      20

pink
rice-grains,...

[The entire page is 153 words long]

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