From: The Remains of the Days (1994)
The Churches of the Night
the years which now are gone sometimes light up
among the empty pews drift
the figures of familiar shades
the lands creak and fade
and the memory's epitaph drapes in white
the body that consented to chant
empty words in the dark.
In the sanctuary doorway
at the altar in the shattered apse
everything we loved sometimes lights up
candles give off drowsy perfume and then they
transport us to their beauteous solitude
their translucent serenity within.
Translated by John C. Davies
Page(s) 151-152
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