In the pine-tree, tenderly tenderly, finely finely: something hissed. It is a child with black eyes that I see in my sleep... - From the fair pine-tree hot resin drips, and in this splendid night there are saw-teeth going over my heart...

Now as a guest from heaven,
I visit your country:
I have seen the vigil of the forest
and sleep in the fields.

Somewhere in the night horseshoes
have torn up the grass, and there
are cows breathing heavily in
a sleepy cowshed.

Now let me tell you sadly and
with tenderness of the 
goose-watchman awake, and
the sleeping geese.

Of hands immersed in dog's wool,
grey hair - a grey dog - and
how towards six
the dawn is beginning.

Again tonight - I am alone in the night,
a homeless and sleepless nun !
Tonight I hold all the keys to this ?...
Surrealistic life...