And all at once
deep in the tunnel
that goes on and on,
in the dead air
that tickles your throat.
All those journeys
that have led me here before.
And yet, no, it's no use
remembering, looking
forward to another one.
I knock on the wall
and thus become aware,
during the dry
and selfsame passage
of my reflection
of a ghost of myself
of what is left
as if, deep down
and against my very will,
I had been transformed.

Translated by Boris Peters