We have walked now long
on the road
after the demands of the dark day
so that we might
reach some comfort and rest
We know
where it ends but not what it will bring
and all its connections, what it links
and what else and where it might lead
We are but little forms
in a world that rolls and changes, disinterested
We have walked when we needed to
and have ridden too -
but all the same, the interminable journey
ends only to start again
as day follows night
and leads to night again
We shall walk this way now,
that is the shorter way;
it might be less of a strain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem