In an unguarded moment,
yearning, I stole in
and have lost my way inside you.

A barbaric landscape
bears the sparse signs
of your presence:
the defoliated tree
that casts no shadow,
the blackened shrubbery,
the dried up creek
between the rocks
and deep beneath the grey
thirsty crust of the earth
the muffled rushing
of murmuring water
that can find no way out.

Translation: 2009, Judith Wilkinson