What will Thou do, God, when I die?
I am Thy jug (what if I am smashed?)
I am Thy drink (what if I spoil?)
I am Thy garment and Thy trade
losing me Though losest Thy meaning
after my death Thou hast no house wherein
words near and warm greet thee
from Thy tired feet falls
the velvet sandal that I am
Thy great mantle lets go of Thee
Thy glance, which I with my cheek
now warmly receive as with a pillow
will come, and will seek me, long...
and will lie down at sunset...
in the lap of unresponding, strangge rocks
What wilt Thou do, God? I am fearful.
要是我死了，你怎么办？
（玛雅翻译）
要是我死了，神， 你怎么办？
我是你的瓦罐 （要是我碎了呢？）
我是你的饮料 （要是我坏了呢？）
是你的衣装，你的行当，
失去我，你就失去了你存在的意义。
我死后，你就没了家，那家里
有欢迎你回来的亲切温暖的问候。
我是一双天鹅绒的软鞋
正从你的倦足落下。
你的大氅就要松开了，
我以温暖如枕的面颊
伺奉你的目光，――
你将会来把我找寻，
日落时分躺进
陌生石丛的怀里。
你怎么办呢？神，我真担心。
I am blind, you out there -- that is a curse,
against one's will, a contradiction,
a heavy daily burden.
I lay my hand on the arm of my wife,
my grey hand upon her greyer grey,
as she guides me through empty spaces.
You move about and stir, and imagine
your sounds differing from stone to stone.
But you are mistaken: I alone
live and suffer and complain, for
in me is an endless crying,
and I do not know whether it is
my heart that cries or my bowels.
Do you recognize these songs? You never sang them,
not quite with this intonation.
For you every morning brings its new light
warm through your open windows.
And you have the feeling from face to face
that tempts you to be indulgent.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
+++++++++++++++++++++++
The Poet
O hour of my muse: why do you leave me,
Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight?
Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter?
How shall I pass my days? And how my nights?
I have no one to love. I have no home.
There is no center to sustain my life.
All things to which I give myself grow rich
and leave me spent, impoverished, alone.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Music
Take me by the hand;
it's so easy for you, Angel,
for you are the road
even while being immobile.
You see, I'm scared no one
here will look for me again;
I couldn't make use of
whatever was given,
so they abandoned me.
At first the solitude
charmed me like a prelude,
but so much music wounded me.
Translated by A. Poulin
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Greek Love-Talk
What I have already learned as a lover,
I see you, beloved, learning angrily;
then for you it distantly departed,
now your destiny stands in all the stars.
Over your breasts we will together contend:
since as glowingly shining they've ripened,
so also your hands desire to touch them
and their own pleasure superintend.
Translated by John J.L. Mood