How many times
have I left
before daybreak or
at dead of night
and often reluctantly
all irritation lost
and my mind on
the threshold of return.
Could they be piled
one on the other
all those roads
and stack those destinations
leaf upon leaf
what a continual drifting
what a monstrous tangle
of distances
would this form
on a map…
it would confirm
the sentence that you
will never find rest,
and yet show
how you will never
advance a span,
that the more you go
and the less you stay
you never arrive
nowhere.

Translated by Boris Peters