I do not know if this is a great growing

      or a terrible defeat

 

The priest turns to accept the offering

            An enchanting woman peers in the window

to watch

 

            I'm not quite sure whether to carry out the act

Many voices cry out

 

     I cannot hear the great song clearly.

 

     I have heard no incomparable word

that has not fallen and broken

a thousand times

 

I have had no final vision

without a feeling

of mirage

                                               

One thing I do know

There is no sacrifice

without a victim

                                                                                  

A Poets hope is in dying

 

It seems our only hope is to die to all concern

particularly for a poet