standing beneath the shower of her feathers,
and soaked by the opaque flake of dusk,
and the silvery shadows of the pines.
I was watching all that, silent-
in the silence of the night.
And, she was sliding all over the sky-
she was surfing along the waves an eerie sea,
a sea but too vast, a sea but too cold, a sea but too quiet,
a sea but too brisk to be just a sea, or even all the seas!
she seemed the green soul of the trees,
She seemed holding the timeless and the time-
in her eyes, in her cries:
“You were right, right!
I could not be but unwelcome!
I could not stay with you, but discarded!
And I could not hide but discovered, sent away!
For the air of death had grown immense in me!
So immense that nil- but death, but death itself-
could pierce me inside, could gather me in
could stand by my side-
at this night...
Now I know; now I see,
you were right”.
I was hearing all that, silent.
in the rain of of her eyes, in the colour of her cries:
“But also I saw, I see!
Believe me, believe!
Though, I no longer live,
Your night flows, lands,
from the same putrid torrent!”
“I am not alive,
But Your Night still streams-
along the same vain torrent"...