We are guests of eternity
and we build the hut on bones,
we build the hut on a graveyard
and invite each other to visit:
'Come, dear guest,
hang your cap on the nail'.
The cap is hung in the hall.
The hut stands firm.
There is joy and shelter in the house.
They sing and dance in the house.
They stoke the stove with dry logs
and there is almost no smell of decay.
Larissa Miller translated by Richard McKane