O you tender ones, walk now and then

into the breath that blows coldly past,

Upon your cheeks let it tremble and part;

behind you it will tremble together again.

O you blessed ones, you who are whole,

you who seem the beginning of hearts,

bows for the arrows and arrows’ targets—

tear-bright, your lips more eternally smile.

Don’t be afraid to suffer; return

that heaviness to the earth’s own weight;

heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.

Even the small trees you planted as children

have long since become too heavy; you could not

carry them now. But the winds … But the spaces …