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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: 19 Nov 2008 5:34 PM | Viewed: 5102 times

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