The sky puts on the darkening blue coatheld for it by a row of ancient trees;you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight,one journeying to heaven, one that falls;and leave you, not at home in either one,not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses,not calling to eternity with the passion of what becomes a star each night, and rises;and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel)your life, with its immensity and fear,so that, now bounded, now immeasurable,it is alternately stone in you and star.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
