Teeth of flowers, hairnet of dew, br hands of herbs, you, perfect wet nurse, br prepare the earthly sheets for me br and the down quilt of weeded moss. br br I am going to sleep, my nurse, put me to bed. br Set a lamp at my headboard; br a constellation; whatever you like; br all are good: lower it a bit. br br Leave me alone: you hear the buds breaking through . . . br a celestial foot rocks you from above br and a bird traces a pattern for you br br so you'll forget . . . Thank you. Oh, one request: br if he telephones again br tell him not to keep trying for I have left . . .