O how all things are far removed

and long have passed away.

I do believe the star,

whose light my face reflects,

is dead and has been so

for many thousand years.

I had a vision of a passing boat

and heard some voices saying disquieting things.

I heard a clock strike in some distant house …

but in which house? …

I long to quiet my anxious heart

and stand beneath the sky’s immensity.

I long to pray …

And one of all the stars

must still exist.

I do believe that I would know

which one alone

endured,

and which like a white city stands

at the ray’s end shining in the heavens.