On the other side of the window, on the other side of the pylon,

of the dung barrow and snowberry bush,

on the other side of the barn roof where southwest wind

for the third day is scattering ash leaves;

on the other side of the Crincels apple tree,

of the raspberries and of the spruce hedge,

on the other side of the foggy field, of the forest and clouds,

of the autumn, of the sky, of the wind,

on the other side of this life, here,

suddenly, a lone tardy dandelion

unfolds and takes

thoughts from my head and words from my mouth.

    *