The Street

Here is a long and silent street.

I walk in blackness and I stumble and falland rise, and I walk blind, my feettrampling the silent stones and the dry leaves.

Someone behind me also tramples, stones, leaves:if I slow down, he slows;if I run, he runs      I turn :nobody.

Everything dark and doorless,only my steps aware of me,

I turning and turning among these cornerswhich lead forever to the streetwhere nobody waits for, nobody follows me,where I pursue a man who stumblesand rises and says when he sees me:nobody.