Nothing carries an unbearable certitude,
Like a line of sight going nowhere-
The map delineated, all in blank;
No need to move, no need to think.
No more has such a pitiful sound,
Like time that has trammeled backwards,
Where nothing is waiting, thoughtless and still-
While watching the reeling horizons break.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem