This never-ending everyday life!
It is your luck to be this way,
And between being born and dying
Day by day you give yourself—you illumine—
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday...
They all abet
The one who threads his way through hours
That are problematic yet
Continuous, linked like a rosary.
To set one's feet upon the earth,
To be the real point on the curve
That draws our creaturely ambition
Toward distant spaces,
Where we want to touch
All rippling surfaces, the wrinkles
Of an immediate reality,
One therefore difficult and harsh
(Harsh from its own strength)
Which my two hands subdue at last
From habit to habit.
So everyday! Without apology.
Translated by Reginald Gibbons