WHILE YOU COUNT THE STARS

While you count the stars, some woman next to you

tells you that the world is full of hatred,

gasps of love and sawdust. Not long ago, she left

her husband who ditched her in the forest.

The rabbit is in the pot, the broom is behind the door.

When you cross her threshold, you’ll see your shadow,

her god, her many gods.

You’ll be again a stupid man

who bullies and torments.

You’ll be perplexed, have no idea where you are.

You’ll follow the burning river, descending even lower.

Evil spirits will rise out of the palm of your hand.