Thinking of Holland.

Thinking of Holland
I see great rivers wide
slowly flowing and going
through a country infinite,

rows of unthinkable
white and thin poplars
standing like high plumes
at the end of sight;

and in the giant
vastness are sunken
de farmhouses, stables,
spread through the land,

tree-groups and villages,
great knotted towers,
churches and elms
in a tapestry band.

The air hanging low
and the sun gets slowly,
in a grey color-palette,
smothered in damps,

and in all the provinces
the voice of the water
with his eternal disaster
is feared and is heard.