O sure there are,
and every human.

- you
and have a face.

I - and until I lie down
I - that one word
I - that with your features.

Never saw I
as in the morning

As a before the waking
your feature

O which was part of the absolute
with you.

          Maybe flee
          and vanish
          such you.

          It is you I

When that am allowed meet
and I wait that becomes morning.

          - that
          for me is,
          and now looks at me.

You - and when as in explanation
with a slanteyed
or mildness.

Thus received it
and for weeks followed you me.

          O joy
          when morning
          o joy - to live a while.

          To thread to
          and with mouth
          with my face

the my doubt's plea
- and toward heaven set your path.

          Do you have a toe
          that it is your
          your own
          I look at you
          and yearn that you come.

I thought that your foot, that made for me
your hands' finger belonged to me
and you feature carried its fragrance for me
I stroked your hair.

Merely an image
and I learn that, the smile
above human.
Yes, your image
but I cannot
tell me
I beg that you
your images
years and situations.

When young and went uncertain
- that which you in words' luster
to memory.

- seek a word, a name
that on these plains
beneath leafless trees.

          your fragrance – purity
          above all
          your eye.

          Say not a word
          I know from before birth
          I have recognized – all.

To never that which you will reach
the thorncrown of the meaningless closes its circle around.

          When the sun has smelted down
          I meet your feature's hand.

          and is a bygone
          – o that in your heart!

And earth moves around your house
only that you as you are.

O high halls
that human that earth.

O these hands
o that your day and your night
the shadows see
there are many shadows in the room
the worlds see,
o these hands!

But at times we tremble so darkly
I think that there are many gods that exist
the whole world is god and only god
and looks through.

          Say, say your little traits
          say that how goes you sun down for me
          say that how went sun up
          when were moons lit
          in the course of time?

That not the roses' bride
that not the heavens' wavegreen and the fields' rocking plume
that not the sun stepped down on my island.

Once upon a time and leaves were young and sun shone on you
and some gaze saw you.

          Your eye
          human's eye
          no day reaches you
          all is separate steps
          and wanders.

          The clear fragrance
          and blades that fall
          and air a larchtreetall
          and wildwine bleeds.

That on earth
that is like sparks and a fromwithin.

          I my shoe soles
          in that life:

          A flash of missing
          in these parts
          for to
          – if absent.

That finger touches you
that world stands around you
that a light that I see you.

– that the day stands and heavens
and the night
and breathes in front of me.

a hand and touches you
and gaze seems to

And my voice, sound
my hand's pen has quavered
toward an unreachableness.

As the heavens
sank my hands
out of haze and fog
an unlocked
the murky.

All secrets
white eyes
that this niceness,
and fades.

that so wonderful
I thought that maybe not

For it is I who is begging you
your face
one as a weaker still.

So still, forcedback I
it is you with your kind
that by your name.

          We are a center
          a human is among the finest.

          Now sun
          now morning
          begins the day
          now is my
          my echoes'
          my day, morning

Greenery and the halls of leaves
a newlit cluster in the chestnut tree's afterbloom
maple and linden, a summer-equilibrist-esplanade.

Roses and bluebottles and sunflower
and white-nettle flower
o that the anxious
the blackblue eye.

          You, with graveflare eyes
          who on bier laid
          a saint
          in sculpture
          like dead, become angels
          – or children.

          All in you
          I beg you
          all, all with you
          o you dust
          your hair is
          like before
          your hand is as.

it was
storm enclosed
a large embrace's
with all that was never sung
and nobody sang by their days
and nobody sang
that beauty.

          When the days cried and in blood you went
          over the suspicioness's way

          when the days cried
          and in blood went
          your fate's way

          One time I am with you
          – and rawness tramps upon human's heart.
          That hides tonight
          its saintliness.

          One time I am with you.
          You went world into.

Where no human thought
where only you
in the room, and the walls are not visible.
ad you have not risen up
you know not that exists
– there, there
may sleep carry your vigil.

When your facial features
like grass and water
like a day: and rose out of the bed
          – but it is a dream
          and it is memory
          it is mirage

          and I saw it
          it is memory
          it is dream.
          When your facial features –.

May heavens die
may people anihilate
today and yesterday
may I stairs fall down
may I wander a shadow, and no heart I hear
may your glances stay silent and the mouth is pulled down beneath the chin
– you are the last, and with your hand.

          That hand pressing
          say, say your
          your forehead's sensibility
          your insignificant's house
          that like a way and humans see.

Why can I not see you
why bloom you not
o my love
my armored house?
I see how you wander in the summer's nights
I see how it grows silent
I see that we can hear
I see how lives in the uninhabited houses
I see that it blooms
all blooms in the worlds' longing unreachableness
all blooms one time
that you bloom, you bloom
that time that time
and the keys sank.

This face feature
like yardpark flower
like blossoms in woods, by the ditches of meadows
in summersunshine.
This face feature
and nobody can see and not be saved.

As in a fenced-in park
an herbal bed concealed
a bit above ground
a colorless dimness
and secretive,
a slowed hand.

A human, a commandment
like the unknown
that as my unsaidness
that suns weave their weaving invisbly.

                                                              Translated by Johannes Göransson.