Youve asked me er is h
?
I reply, this.
You say, ing for in its transparent
bell? is it ing for?
I tell you it is ing for time, like you.
You ask me wis alga s arms?
Study, study it, at a certain ain sea I know.
You question me about tusk of the narwhal,
and I reply by describing
dies.
You enquire about thers,
ides?
Or youve found in tion touching on
tal arcecture
of t to me now?
You to understand tric nature of the ocean
spines?
talactite t breaks as it walks?
tretc
in ter?
I to tell you t life in its
jewel boxes
is endless as to count, pure,
and among time he
petal
and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall
from a y made of infinite mother-of-pearl.
I am not ty net which has gone on ahead
of hose darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to triangle, longitudes
on timid globe of an orange.
I igating
tar,
and in my net, during t, I woke up naked,
t, a fisrapped inside the wind.
translated by Robert Bly