THE VOICE IN THE GARDEN
As a gleaming sword
with a thrust through my eyes
sorrow pierced my body.
It descends through me, stepping on my ruins;
colonizing the field of my dream.
Like a beam of light its fiery tears
moistened my blood
and I departed illuminated, pursued:
all my insides open to the new master.
The heiress to the sorrow of my madness
unleashed the currents of her army
and discovering my eyes now without borders,
my garrison fell to them.
Now I sing with the flower of my sadness
hidden in silence:
For what purpose am I to enter the grove
if it does not lead to eternity?
Translation by Donald Wellman