When I was a child, birds gave me ideas,
In their flights of rows, towards the lake
When they looked white and glistening
Against the autumn sky, my fingernails
Clawing the air rhythmically and my lips
Calling them to infuse whites in my nails.
Those days birds would drop their whites
Directly in the behind of our fingernails.
Actually they were bringing these whites
From marshes of Siberia across the seas.
Sappho, spelled (in the dialect spoken by the poet) Psappho, (born c. 610, Lesbos, Greece — died c. 570 BCE). A lyric poet greatly admired in all ages for the beauty of her writing style.
Her language contains elements from Aeolic vernacular and poetic tradition, with traces of epic vocabulary familiar to readers of Homer. She has the ability to judge critically her own ecstasies and grief, and her emotions lose nothing of their force by being recollected in tranquillity.
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Nature Poetry 
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