The image has not yet arrived
The merciless inscription
Brief
Only a voice out of turn
Stepping
Through time
As if skipping over notes

The heavy sound
Escapes him
At the word-winter frost

The eye has not yet arrived
Nor the check
Nor hoof
Nor that hushed tread
That lurks behind the mane
Benumbed

Without sufficient sleep
I'll set out
From my name
I'll lock up

And I'll know who sent you,
My unwritten verse

Translated by: Antonio Taneski and Graham Reid