October Field
Perfect calm sketched afar
at the limit between mountains and air
distance, long spark
that tears apart, that hones
*
All day the humble voices
of unseen birds
the hour riven to the grass on a gold leaf
the sky that expands
*
Goats in the pasture
are a libation of milk
No one knows
where the eye of the earth is
but I know the shadows
it calms
Scattered, one can better see the stretch
of the future
*
All earth visible
measurable
filled with time
hovering on a feather that soars
more and more brightly
*
Apples scattered on the
on the orchard floor
Quickly !
Let the skin turn crimson
before winter
*
In the expanse
nothing more than shimmering mountains
Nothing more than ardent eyes
meeting
Blackbirds and doves
Translated by Paul Auster
Page(s) 11-12
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