I love the cool transparency
Of the Himalayan skies;
The calm, unfeeling way the sun
Shines without warmth upon
The powerful black pyramids,
The chrystal mountain tops,
And the tiny figures frozen to
Their ragged ridges and their endless slopes;
/
I love the deceiving embrace
Of cold lakes and ocean depths;
One moment it will comfort you,
The next — strangle to death;
The waves will share their fairy-tales
And secrets with one man,
While another will be driven mad
By a sudden storm’s black rage;
/
I love the true, raw loneliness
Of a fighter in the ring,
Where fears collide and courage hides,
Where dreams turn into demons;
Where the audience curses and cheers
The winner of the fight,
While the loser, destroyed, disappears,
Into the quiet of doubt;
/
I love the roads that can’t be built
And those, which know the rhythm
Of thousands of pilgrims’ feet,
And the tales of sins they want forgiven;
Those roads, which take you to the edge,
Where, off the precipice,
You can send flying down a rock
Or a burdensome memory;
/
These things I love and want the most
Run, like sand, through my fingers;
Not for a moment they’ll pretend
That they exist solely for me;
One day I wish I could become
Just like the things I love –
Like a diamond which outlives each owner,
Oblivious to touch, impervious to time;