From afar:
From the depths
Of the sky,

At the edge
Of times and
Events,

A call, a summons
Straight
Inward,
Straight
To the heart:

Into the spirit‑blade.

You
Stood still,
And you
Felt it deeply,
Were stunned —
But then
You roused yourself,

As if
A seagull
Above
The water.

You shine
Like a white
Moon,

A ray
Rushes
Before you,

Illuminating
The foam
Of the sea.

You
Came here
With the sunset,
And
Until the morning
Dawn,

You will
Work fervently,

In
The fields
Of the heavenly
Meadow.

You
Raced straight
Toward
The sun,
And
Drank in
Essence
The earth.

In it
You sowed
Many seeds —

Can you
Grow them all?

Is there
Enough life?

Or
Is your
Road
Too wide?

Enough
Light and
Warmth —

Did a rainbow
Appear on your path?

Flax and linden?
And has the buckwheat
Bloomed and faded?

Have you
Collected honey
Into the combs?

Are the
Swallowtail butterflies
Still alive?

Is the
Guitar string
Broken?

Has the
Violin’s fingerboard
Not cracked?

Has all
Your sprout
Grown?
Or
Has it withered
At the root?

Or the
Exquisite thoughts
That are
Fit only
For a king?


As if
A seagull
Above
The water.

You shine
Like a white
Moon,

A ray
Rushes
Before you,

Illuminating
The foam
Of the sea.

You
Came here
With the sunset,
And
Until the morning
Dawn,

You will
Work fervently,

In
The fields
Of the heavenly
Meadow.

You
Raced straight
Toward
The sun,
And
Drank in
Essence
The earth.

In it
You sowed
Many seeds —

Can you
Grow them all?

Is there
Enough life?

Or
Is your
Road
Too wide?

Enough
Light and
Warmth —

Did a rainbow
Appear on your path?

Flax and linden?
And has the buckwheat
Bloomed and faded?

Have you
Collected honey
Into the combs?

Are the
Swallowtail butterflies
Still alive?

Is the
Guitar string
Broken?

Has the
Violin’s fingerboard
Not cracked?

Has all
Your sprout
Grown?
Or
Has it withered
At the root?

Or the
Exquisite thoughts
That are
Fit only
For a king?