Youve asked me er is h

    ?

    I reply, this.

    You say, ing for in its transparent

    bell?  is it ing for?

    I tell you it is ing for time, like you.

    You ask me wis alga s arms?

    Study, study it, at a certain ain sea I know.

    You question me about tusk of the narwhal,

    and I reply by describing

    dies.

    You enquire about thers,

    ides?

    Or youve found in tion touching on

    tal arcecture

    of t to me now?

    You  to understand tric nature of the ocean

    spines?

    talactite t breaks as it walks?

    tretc

    in ter?

    I  to tell you t life in its

    jewel boxes

    is endless as to count, pure,

    and among time he

    petal

    and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall

    from a y made of infinite mother-of-pearl.

    I am not ty net which has gone on ahead

    of hose darknesses,

    of fingers accustomed to triangle, longitudes

    on timid globe of an orange.

    I igating

    tar,

    and in my net, during t, I woke up naked,

    t, a fisrapped inside the wind.

    translated by Robert Bly