I wonder how you will leave
from the life which doesn't lack a thing
you will either lock your difficult nature
or make a noise in a barren field
without extra useless speeches
or in the laughter of leaves stuck to the ground
you will quietly go away in the splashes of dripping from the roof
without a word of goodbye to the word
given or said to yourself in the dark
or when the whole crowd will fall to your knees
Bruised soles of the track that goes to heaven
rains will come to me in November
and there won't be a constant wind and a cold heat
the fleeting lights will tell you about me
or smoke of the surf far away from home will remind
You comprise a bottomless mystery
by fireflies in your eyes that I will never reveal
by your hands in burdensome piles
swirled on my cooled fingers
my wireless threads
detached from the most important...