|The Chinese Travelogue|
If you could dull its perspicuity, free it from chaos, limit its gleam,
liken it to a grain of dust, then it would seem to exist clearly.
The boat flies
in the lower wet, blue sky.
The sky darkens swiftly
and looks with eyes of another sapphire.
Did you know? Nobody ever trusted me,
like a child dying of his own boldness
says to another child “Yes
and they bury something under the third pine...”
So I say:
nobody ever trusted me
and you won’t trust me either,
but don’t tell anyone.
As the boat flies, the sun shines
and the sky’s joy plays in the sapphire.
A boat’s floating across the wet flattened azure.
The sky darkens quickly and glances out
with the alien eyes ol that other sapphire.
Do you know what:’ no one ever believed me
(like a child tells another,
dying from his own audacity:
yea, and then they buried him
by the third pine). I’ll tell you the same way:
no one ever believed me,
and neither will you,
just don’t tell anybody
that while the boat floats, and the sun gleams
heavenly joy is playing in the sapphire.
| ||7. The boat flies...|