When the sun shines and is quenched
In a long eclipse
When a baby is born and dies at once
When a bud withers without opening

Should we look at the pebbles?
The rivers’ shining pebbles?
Or climb to the mountain-top?
And breathe in thin air?

When the sun is quenched in the sky,
Should we look through the darkness?
To find some fluorescent bones
To light the living soul?

Or climb to the mountain-top?
Our forefathers shed much blood.
For God and the soil,
Let us host the flag with the eagle!

1988


TRANSLATED: JOHN HODGSON