Anna Kamienska
I’ll lock myself now in a cell of prickly hay to think through all from the beginning A leaf a root an ant a hare the sea a cloud a rock I’ll think about them as a sinner thinks about his sins I’ll ask myself whether I regret very much not belonging to a land of green I’ll question how many times I didn’t ask roots which way to go I’ll repent before water a cloud a birch-tree I’ll wash their feet and dress their wounds Why can’t I be reconciled to green rustling life and sleep among mortal dreams Leaf teach me to fall on the indifferent earth