Fireflies 153 - 160 [German translation]

153

To the blind pen the hand that writes is unreal,

its writing unmeaning.

154

The sea smites his own barren breast

because he has no flowers to offer to the moon.

155

The greed for fruit misses the flower.

156

God in His temple of stars

waits for man to bring him his lamp.

157

The fire restrained in the tree fashions flowers.

Released from bonds, the shameless flame

dies in barren ashes.

158

The sky sets no snare to capture the moon,

it is her own freedom which binds her.

The light that fills the sky

seeks its limit in a dew-drop on the grass.

159

Wealth is the burden of bigness,

Welfare the fulness of being.

160

The razor-blade is proud of its keenness

when it sneers at the sun.