Where probably awaits another rock.
But you I owe my courage
and in the darkness
of your impenetrable flesh
a light shall flash -
from our clashing – earth on earth.
In vain I might
be waiting for this moment,
for long before me here
the headstrong left their blood.
Yet you remain. And neither sound
nor moan I hear. And it does hurt,
but just inside of me. Yet hurry not.
I’ll plant my pain inside of you – a tree,
I’ll water it with burning hope,
by it I’ll pass onto the other side,
where, probably, awaits another rock.
And I will plant another tree.
But in its branches there will be birds.
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