In the clear midday and at midnight in darkness and reality
I sail from my familiar shores to the unknown,
into the unknown I sail from my familiar porch,
from familiar voices, from a familiar face.
I fly into the unknown although I don't want to fly
and press myself more surely to your shoulder.
But I fly. But I go on. Every wingbeat, every step
is an unseen light or unseen darkness,
an unseen flight, an unseen crisis.
I wish for slow days on familiar shores
in usual circles. But from morning to morning,
winds blow on the back, forcing one to go on.
How many more times will light change to dark
in order to chase me away from myself.
I beseech you, at the dying of the last day,
call me before the last step.
Larissa Miller translated by Richard McKane