[There is a way to sew wings on arms]

There is a way to sew wings on arms,

the needles are blunted, though, the leather

is scuffed, the sword won’t leave the scabbard,

the word has vanished into sand.

And to sew wings on arms there is a way,

but sensing danger, the birds flap to death,

and wind blows out the town like a lamp,

and the sun has set before sunrise.

Translated by Peter France