We present this work in honor of the 15th anniversary of the poet’s death.

Press yourself close
to the ground.

The earth
still smells of summer
and your body
still smells of love.

But the grass
is already yellowed above you.
The wind is cold
and full of thistledown.

And the dream which waylays you
shadow-footed
your dream
has autumn eyes.

Translation by Elke Heckel and Meg Taylor