When I say you are mine
I am absent,
And Nature speaks for me:
It wants to crash you,
To devour you,
To burn you,
In order to find
A momentary relief
From the pangs of scatteredness.
When I am passing by a lake
That lies there in the sunshine,
With a background
of dreaming trees
And far misty mountains,
Holding its hypnotizing mirror
to a serene sky,
With, here and there,
Some wandering white clouds
Like some lone sheep
Grazing the shimmer of azure blue,
I watch ,
With the admiring eyes of God,
The white swans
Sailing gracefully
On the mixed faces of water
and sky,
Fishing in their triangular nets
The ripples of light,
And watching them,
I lose my selfhood
In the joy of the unownable beauty,
Because the swans are not mine,
Because the swans belong
to the landscape,
Because the swans are
An inseparable part of the universe.
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