Music, with afternoon deepening into night
It emerges from underthe steely sky, glides through the forest
and over the crusted snow. Death’s yearning music.
My plans are lonelier than ever before.
The earth smilingly offers a hand to its violator,
the seed’s dream is pure abstraction.
The music I make my vision from sticks to no instrument.
Cruelty aimless, evil no nome.Nakedness in winter – I a’m turning steel.
Cold goes to the marrow.Down by the lake
teh dead reeds rustle, without snapping, in the lap of the ice.
You ask, ‘Are you depressd? I’ve exchanged depression
for vacancy, ‘I say. ‘Vacant I’ve been, aimless…’
AHTI, Risto. Narcissus in winter. Translated by Hebert Lomas, 1982
The closer the cry for help, the more likely it is it’s you that needs it.