Nobody lies in this earth
because no river is at rest
in any other river, nor is the sea
a potter’s field of rivers.
None of these dead men here
comes dressed in a coffin.
Therefore they are not buried
but spilled out on the ground.
Wrapped in the hammocks they slept in,
exposed to sun and rain,
they come bringing their own flies.
The ground fits them like a glove.
Dead, they lived in the open air.
Today they inhabit open earth,
so much the earth’s that the earth
does not feel their intrusion.
Translated by Jane Cooper