From: Dark Eros (1977)
The Seasons
That this autumn
Was the springtime of another autumn.
That is the way the seasons pass
One deep inside another
A bolt of cloth a single space
Indefinable time defined
Only in the future
Which smokes carefree
Raking in advance
Over the sleepless fires of its hell.
Consciousness of my span of time
Blowing up the palaces of the centuries —
Stones and steel.
Translated by Christopher Robinson
Page(s) 119
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