Analysis of Orchard

I saw the first pear
        as it fell--
        the honey-seeking, golden-banded,
        the yellow swarm
        was not more fleet than I,
        (spare us from loveliness)
        and I fell prostrate
        crying:
        you have flayed us
        with your blossoms,
        spare us the beauty
        of fruit-trees.

The honey-seeking
        paused not,
        the air thundered their song,
        and I alone was prostrate.

O rough hewn
        god of the orchard,
        I bring you an offering--
        do you, alone unbeautiful,
        son of the god,
        spare us from loveliness:

these fallen hazel-nuts,
        stripped late of their green sheaths,
        grapes, red-purple,
        their berries
        dripping with wine,
        pomegranates already broken,
        and shrunken figs
        and quinces untouched,
        I bring you as offering.