We present this work in honor of the 95th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

Who could fall asleep, as a child falls asleep;
smile between dreams to the dream of pain;
and dream of friends and dream of affection;
and slowly sink into a greater dream.

And walk through life sleepwalking,
eyes wide open on an inner world,
with sealed lips, eternally mute,
attentive only to the rhythm of your own heart…

And go through life without leaving a trace…
To be the poor stream that evaporates in the sun…
and lose one night, as a star dies,
that burned thousands of years, and that nobody saw it…