Life and death of a Butterfly

The Butterfly from Moss flies in the tempest;
all the equinoctial threads,
the emeralds' frozen paste,
everything flies in the thunderbolt,
the air's ultimate consequences are shaken,
then a rain of green stamens
and the emerald's startled pollen rises;
its great velvets of wet fragrance
fall on the cyclone's blue shores,
merge with the fallen terrestrial leavens,
return to the homeland of leaves.