You exist; the season
ignores me, leaves me all shivers;
endless strawberries in the woods and apples
in the countless rains
Pure summer consumed
by strong winds
lit by love
and quite another flowering
that means nothing, weighs nothing,
and this impromptu afternoon
so I may take leave of you
With you green now
with fogs and light-shafts
you save me, I see again
among blinding riches.
translated by Ruth Feldman & Brian Swann
