How many years – for how long will I still
reproach myself for having grown
less than I should have
to be called a man: if this is a man
how many ways there are to be one
and to feel people say it – but it’s more
and more important to remain among men
trusting in a trail – maybe
walking backward in the footprints
to arrive (hic optime manebimus)
where the cherry garden is always in flower
undeserved paradise lost and found
which I should at last recognize
just a moment before I’m wrong
what an unbelievable mistake it is to believe
that I could get away with confronting myself
with the genesis of a new ideal
so you imprint your steps on the wind
and you’re the voice of crying clouds
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