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(translated by May Swenson)
Unmoving, the ant in the forest looks into
nothing. And nothing is heard but the ticking
of dark greenery, nightlong the murmur deep
in summer's chasm.
The spruce tree at point, like a clock's jagged
hand. The ant aglow in the mountain's shadow.
A bird screams! At last. Slowly the cloud cart
begins to roll.
Kyrie
(translated by Robin Fulton)
Sometimes my life opened its eyes in the dark.
A feeling as if crowds drew through the streets
in blindness and anxiety on the way towards a miracle,
while I invisibly remain standing.
As the child falls asleep in terror
listening to the heart's heavy tread.
Slowly, slowly until morning puts its rays in the locks
and the doors of darkness open.
Have a fun weekend! Be safe!
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