Pick up castaway skates and glide
across frozen pavements.

Point-blank honed, cut into the surface
and let the legs with the skates be one.

Skate away quickly, alone, as though it were a race,
pay no attention to shouts: "Where is he skating?"

It's good to skate this way, no bounds
under skates everything is allowed.

You're the lone skater down here, you see
neither marks nor shadows the skates cast.

You glide among the city lights,
you hold your balance,
you don't fall over backwards.

The skates leave a sharp trace of lines,
grooves in the shimmering surface under them.

So, take a dusty old pair and skate away
into a skidding substance, there you'll feel whole.

Skate by yourself and under you, ice will turn
to a quickened liquid.

Don't tell people about your skating.
Skate as though you weren't skating alone.

Translated by Ana Jelnikar and W. Martin