From: The Remains of the Days (1994)
Whoever
And with his bitter tears
Communes in the darkness
Whoever kisses his mother's brow
and in her pale cheeks
stirs a candle's flame
whoever over his own tabernacle holds vigil
and wanders in the unwaking
hours of sleep
whoever draws near to the insane
he will be the Chosen One
and he will proclaim.
Translated by John C. Davies
Page(s) 152
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