If you let yourself hang,
Just long enough,
Under the water—
It's not too difficult...
You wait.
Letting it tangle your hair
Ripple along your skin,
Until you are covered with
Green river moss.
And you can't feel the tug on
Your lungs anymore-
Until your skin melts away
Into the water,
And you become,
Just a current that flows,
Just a ripple of cool liquid
That goes
On and on
For a million miles
Of stream, and river, and ocean
Of lake, and pond, and marsh.
Just stay,
Until you forget how to float,
How to breathe, how to paddle,
Until you sink like a stone,
Deep to the shadow-water,
Silt streaks your skin,
Fish, silver fish,
They nip at your lips, at your hands...
Until you are nothing more than a worn water stone,
Polished smooth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem