Those white ones standing naked leaning stones
brought beyond exile preserved
erect in memory’s patched daylight

Those who are dancing far off, murmur woven into echo
welcome reserved for the one who, dead, prepares himself
his face splattered with quenched desire

Those who slash in an instant a cheek red as an eventful
evening closed windows nightlight life
evoked then a handkerchief moves across the plate

Those black ones guardians of hounded tribes
who appear in smoke only after the third attack
and then sink into the ashes faded forever

Those golden ones deposed idols of a glowing childhood
time turned a heart which lost its vision
emptied the house during the farewell ovations

O all those whom love never marked with craving
who desert you crouched in a desolate place

And the only She who leaves you in a night gone stale.

Тranslated by Marilyn Hacker