So what we have got
is a continual untangling
of not what was said
or meant but something
else.
We continue to outdistance
ourselves in this. This
is our lapse, why we race
and cannot catch ourselves
outright. We trot when we
should gallop or stop.
Our shadow casts its lot
on the water's surface
where the moon ripples
and is not the moon
in the darkness, though
it is dark enough.
If only we could touch
where it happens, the way
the tongue touches the teeth
or the palate. But this is too much
as the water is away the moment
we foresaw it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem