Nov 202010

The hunter in the hills
tracks down
every hare and every roe
crackling on
through frost and snow.
If someone says
“Here’s a beast already shot,”
He leaves it there.
So too my lust
pants to chase
what runs away
but flits on past
what’s there to stay.

translated by Stanley Lombardo and Diane Rayor

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.