'XXVII

I'M SCARED OF THAT STREAM,
good memory, strong sir, implacable
cruel softness. I'm afraid.
This house makes me whole well, a whole
place for this not knowing where I am.

Let's not go inside. I'm leery of this please
come back in a few minutes, over raised bridges.
I'm not approaching, sweet lord,
courageous keepsake, sad
skeleton singer.

What content, that of this spellbound building
that offers me quicksilver deaths
and plugs my drains with lead
to the dry time-being.

Stream that doesn't taste of how we're doing,
fill me with dread, with fear.
Glorious memory, I won't go near you.
Sad, blonde skeleton --hiss, hiss.'

--Trilc* tr David Smith (1973)




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