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;