Light, the way a peach blossom

Reflected just that portion

Of the sun that made it

Appear pinkish in contrast with

The sky in denial, blue

Despite its efforts to cheer you,

To give your tree

Something to reach for and

You something to reflect

I noticed you, was humored

By the way you could see

 L'âme de votre Japon

In the plum, the delicacy

Of the branches bathed

In soft, white daubery

While a seed of torment

Began to wander

To the cypresses and to

Oppose them with

A tortured, starry sky

I thank you for saving me

By retreating to the cleanness

Of the pear, quenching

My curiosity with a mirror

Of the fruit, a tree

Which started slender,

Quickly swelling

The almond tree,

Small, new, fertile,

Would grow

In your imagination

It was clever, I think,

For you to allow

The cypresses to enclose

The orchard, fences

Always in view,

Reminding you

Of your limitations,

Alerting you to the spectre

Of madness, of apathy,

Ever to the cypresses,

To the starry night

Turn around;

Suddenly Arles rises

Behind you, contrasts

With the trees which

Suddenly seem less commanding,

Less dominant over your spirit

When civilization looms,

Rejecting your philosophy, screaming

"Liar! Art may be faith

For the faithless,

but for you, nothing."

Cast away the screams,

Vincent, smother them

With the cypresses and

Oppose them with