I hurry with the hare,
I’m drenched with the fish,
I hide with the weasel,
take flight with the pigeon,
I doze with the peaceful man,
and wake him early.
I struggle with the lame man,
I cry with the crying child.
And I marry with my light
all who move on Earth
and all who move no longer.
And I want this to mean
that everyone trusts in God.
The goat on the sharp rock,
the petals of light,
the clouds that come and go
like the mountain peaks,
all combine words
with such skill
they make whole phrases
soundless to the ear,
but visible to the eye,
language crossing any distance,
scooped out or rounded
with colour –
its serene eloquence
unrolling smoothly
in the vast apparent silence
where everything speaks at once.