I take everything from you
And each moment return a blessed emptiness.

Oh, words
Cold corridors for passing by!

Like earthenware
I receive the shower
Of your overwhelmingness
And at the bidding of a humble hand
I scatter you midst tables and furrows.

Emptier, I resound in space
Light and cold,
Echo before the builders of the domes,
Under the foundation of the arch
I take up my urn
And stare in apathy
High up
And emptily…

Oh, marble dust,
Oh, heavenly places!

Translated by: Dragi Mihajlovski and Graham Reid