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A
Vision
Spring comes: the flowers learn their colored shapes
I look at them, but back at me there gapes
Emptiness, white and endless.
And Summer comes to where the gold crops stand;
But I still see, as plain as on my own hand,
Emptiness, white and endless.
And death will come to dim my human sight.
My eyes, inside the tomb, will watch with fright
Emptiness, white and endless.
At midnight, from my coffin, I shall go
Thoughtfully toward the distant fields that show
Emptiness, white and endless.
Translated by Jerzy Peterkiewicz and Burns Singer.
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