it's night-time again, I stand listening, bowed
over my child beside her bed, so that I can
take a breath away with me, but all is still;
her nose appears to be quite free, there's no
rattling, and it's not completely dark here in
the room, but still I can't see the rising or falling
of her cover without any doubt. everything is
uncertain in me as ever a twilight was that breaks
in through the blind. barking next door and an
ambulance are signs that the world exists. I have
to believe it, it is easy; lay thee down now and
rest, and in the dawn we'll hear the ring dove
again. its cry reminds me .. it's august, my love.
all is still. all I know for certain is that the floor-
boards creak however carefully I move. it's
happened; a brief twitch of her foot in her
sleep has touched her toy clock, it's singing;
or was it my hand stroking over the cover.
just one quick whimper so that I can go.

translated by Catherine Hales