For thousands of years I lay dead, turned to ice in that lake.
You woke me.
I woke and found my sleep in the mist of a forest blighted with fire.
My body clung to night.
Whiteness flowed into my skin from a glacier's deep light
and reminded me
You walked in that lake
leaving tracks and skin.
© translated by Ruth Christie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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