From afar:

From the depths

Of the sky,

At the edge

Of times and

Events,

A call, a summons

Straight

Inward,

Straight

To the heart:

Into the spirit‑blade.

You

Stood still,

And you

Felt it deeply,

Were stunned —

But then

You roused yourself,

As if

A seagull

Above

The water.

You shine

Like a white

Moon,

A ray

Rushes

Before you,

Illuminating

The foam

Of the sea.

You

Came here

With the sunset,

And

Until the morning

Dawn,

You will

Work fervently,

In

The fields

Of the heavenly

Meadow.

You

Raced straight

Toward

The sun,

And

Drank in

Essence

The earth.

In it

You sowed

Many seeds —

Can you

Grow them all?

Is there

Enough life?

Or

Is your

Road

Too wide?

Enough

Light and

Warmth —

Did a rainbow

Appear on your path?

Flax and linden?

And has the buckwheat

Bloomed and faded?

Have you

Collected honey

Into the combs?

Are the

Swallowtail butterflies

Still alive?

Is the

Guitar string

Broken?

Has the

Violin’s fingerboard

Not cracked?

Has all

Your sprout

Grown?

Or

Has it withered

At the root?

Or the

Exquisite thoughts

That are

Fit only

For a king?

As if

A seagull

Above

The water.

You shine

Like a white

Moon,

A ray

Rushes

Before you,

Illuminating

The foam

Of the sea.

You

Came here

With the sunset,

And

Until the morning

Dawn,

You will

Work fervently,

In

The fields

Of the heavenly

Meadow.

You

Raced straight

Toward

The sun,

And

Drank in

Essence

The earth.

In it

You sowed

Many seeds —

Can you

Grow them all?

Is there

Enough life?

Or

Is your

Road

Too wide?

Enough

Light and

Warmth —

Did a rainbow

Appear on your path?

Flax and linden?

And has the buckwheat

Bloomed and faded?

Have you

Collected honey

Into the combs?

Are the

Swallowtail butterflies

Still alive?

Is the

Guitar string

Broken?

Has the

Violin’s fingerboard

Not cracked?

Has all

Your sprout

Grown?

Or

Has it withered

At the root?

Or the

Exquisite thoughts

That are

Fit only

For a king?