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| Who made the world? |
| Who made the swan, and the black bear? |
| Who made the grasshopper? |
| This grasshopper, I mean-- |
| the one who has flung herself out of the grass, |
| the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, |
| who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -- |
| who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. |
| Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. |
| Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. |
| I don't know exactly what a prayer is. |
| I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down |
| into the grass, how to kneel in the grass, |
| how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields |
| which is what I have been doing all day. |
| Tell me, what else should I have done? |
| Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? |
| Tell me, what is it you plan to do |
| With your one wild and precious life? |
