On many roads, my traveling thought is looking for you.
Oh, that end of a day, covered in hurried rain drops!
In my garden, the flowers, wishing for other very high meadows,
are still calling for
your light without a trace.
Where you are today, I don’t know. None of the songs
found you. Today,
you are where you are. And I am here. The distance
has placed the Big Dipper between us,
the waters in valleys, the fire in the darkness on the hills,
and on the earth, it placed petals and pain
that don’t like daylight.
It closed as a gate. No sign can penetrate the emptiness,
the emptiness.
No comments:
Post a Comment