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[sun_nevtil]

SUMMER

After the swollen dikes, the heat invades
The hedge on which the morning glory curls
Later the heat will fly on heron wings

Only the farmers have their deep roots here
For them the heaven opens still
Holds oracles, prompts, punishes, is a house of certain doors.

Not erudite, the earth still writes
A bold hand with its flourishes of grain
The wind applauds along the slopes of hills

Sap climbs the boles and flames into bloom
White butterflies are blossoms on the wing
Kingfishers moult blue feather by a spring

The days are blooms swaying on stalks of light
Fair petals widen in the level field
And laugh-bright children run to gather them

The undulance of wings is not less clean
Than song of orioles in hilarious trees
In which the summer leans, the tipsy one.

-Ricaredo Demetillo

Please explain each stanza of this poem for me, puh-leeez!
*starts wearing her best puppy dog eyes*
please... please... please... reply ASAP... PLEAAASEE...

(psst! is double-posting allowed in this site?)