When Time was, we sat and talked, so long as time was;
about death. Time had it all, makes time, of time
there is ever more. You are a little baby, now your
little voice still cries, you've only just arrived.
One moment I become in being, I knew, always
I knew my roots were there, here and now must be torn out,
from earth's foot: the eye and brain, remain so
delighted still; what was remains, have we lost what never was?
When Time was, we sat, so happily, and talked
about the poem: that in time, counted by us,
congeals, sparkles, swells with all the has not been,
so we sit there together now the way we sat.
Zurbarán
Hiëronymus with Paula and Eustochium
Washington

Translated by Ko Kooman