Until he named the horse horse,
hoofs left no print on the earth,
manes had not been invented,
swiftness and grace were not married.
Until he named the cow cow,
no one slept standing up,
no one saw through opaque eyes,
food was chewed only once.
Only after he named the fish fish,
did the light put on skins
of yellow and silver oil,
revealing itself as a dancer
and high-jump champion of the world,
just as later
he had to name the woman love
before he could put on the knowledge
of who she was, with her small hands.
