There is a fish, that quivers in the pool,
itself a shadow, but its shadow, clear.
Catch it again and again, it still is there.
Against the flowing stream, its life keeps pace
with death - the impulse and the flash of grace
hiding in its stillness, moves to be motionless.
No net will hold it - always it will return
Where the ripples settle, and the sand -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem