Still Poem by Wolfgang Hilbig

Distant collection of pale thoughts
which are still silent
protected by old borders
snowed in by the borderless -
assailed by time
and wind -
its dark source still does not want to show itself.

Burning snow flurries flew through the lamps' sway
and foot prints still
lead unlost across the ice -
none of the memory stirs in the dark white.

It was the last snow from the year past
it merely displayed the fuss around itself
no more and not my self in the white circle.

Translated by Bradley Schmidt