You emerge from beyond the horizon,
heedlessly towards darkness
and inattentive towards smothering dreams.
 
You lend an ear to silence
moderately
like the most distant thunder.
It has already been heard how you sound in the motionless bells.
 
You always dawn astonishingly the same.
 
Mists, lost within themselves, hesitate,
trust neither earth nor heaven.
 
All creation loses speech, dumbly move its lips,
startled so that the words flow back
within,
to make blood brighter,
to make pain,
to make them wholly incomprehensible,
neither outcry nor buzzing.
 
Thus nature copies you
Always from the outset
indirectly, insufficiently,
fervent about you
disappointed in itself,
It imitates current and circulation.
 
Softly you reproduce your portraits
- one after the other.
With a regular motion
you manage time.

(1984)