And thus it was: When I returned
After the Liberation
To my hiding place
Between God and Satan —
Through the thin tin vaulting
I once pierced with a nail,
Fell the same oblique shine,
The same heavenly needle of light,
In whose grace I needled letters
Into the silver parchment of my body
For all eternity.

Let me unravel the secret:
Liberated, when I returned
To my hiding place —
In the same needleshine I saw,
Quivering in the ray of dust,
A familiar figure. I could swear:
I it was. And am. And shall remain,
Strung on a string of dust
With the same needle.

1978