is profundity in the wise man,
children and grandchildren
don't bother him,
don't alarm him.
To represent a particular outlook,
to act,
to travel hither and yon
are all signs of a world
that doesn't see clearly.
In front of my window
--- wise man says ---
is a valley
where shadows pool,
two poplars mark a path,
leading you will know where to.
Perspective
is another word for stasis:
you draw lines,
they ramify
like a creeper ---
tendrils explode ---
and they disburse crows in swarms
in the winter red of early dawns
then let them settle ---
you will know --- for whom.
the sea and the beasts and the mindless stars
wrestle it down today as ever ---
think it --- but remember, the most exalted
are wallowing in their own bow-wave,
are no more than the yellow of the buttercup,
while other colors too play their game ---
remember and endure the hour,
there was never one like it, all are like it,
people and angels and cherubim,
black-winged, bright-eyed,
none was yours ---
was ever yours.
Michael Hofmann, Translator