Nowhere has denying
reigned as rife as in this not
which is outsitting me here.Oh, if only death would
outstare itself for ever
in its iron mirror.
God, what a down-at-heel hope
for a voiceless evaporation
with wind and light as the silent
witnesses which one finds here.
From Springvossen (Amsterdam: De Bezige Bij, 2000). By arrangement with the estate of Hans Faverey.
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