Motions of life at a standstill, not able to be tempted
by rhythms that hang their head, walking along a tight-
rope so carefully.
Not exactly being sure-footed, but wanting to see what
will become of them in the future scheme of things, but
only maybe, eventually, some other time in life when
all has been laid to rest at last, not one the wiser.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem