How hard they try !

How hard the horse tries
to become a dog.
How hard the dog tries to become 
a swallow.
How hard the swallow tries to become 
a bee.
How hard the bee tries to become a
horse.
and the horse,
what a sharp arrow it squeezes from
the rose, what a pale rose rising from 
its lips !
And the rose,
what a flock of lights and cries knotted in the
living sugar of its trunk.
And the sugar,
what daggers it dreams in its vigils !
And these miniature daggers,
what a moon without stables, what nakedness,
undying and rosy flesh they seek out !
And I,
on the roof's edge,
what a burning angel I look for and am.
But the plaster arch,
how vast, how invisible, how minute,
without even trying !