The yellow pears hang in the lake.
Life sinks, grace reigns, sins ripen, and
in the north dies an almond tree.
A genius took me by the hand and said
come with me though the time has not yet come.
Therefore, when the gods get lonely,
a hero will emerge from the bushes
of a summer evening
bearing the first green figs of the season.
For the glory of the gods has lain asleep
too long in the dark
in darkness too long
too long in the dark.