The deep parts of my life pour onward, as if the river shores were opening out. It seems that things are more like me now, That I can see farther into paintings. I feel closer to what language can't reach. With my senses, as with birds, I climb into the windy heaven, out of the oak, in the ponds broken off from the sky my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes. Translated by Robert Bly
Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 24 Mar 2017 8:03 AM | Viewed: 8806 times
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