I ride a horse, black images
I ride relentless words, meek bread
thorns have embedded in my soul, the sand of mules
white birches burn, halls burn
fish burn without air, night without a mouth
sand burns, footsteps burn in sleep
the fresh skin of the world burns, I ride shivering
the strength to die, Lord, I watch how he sleeps
I sense the gatekeeper of heaven and earth, I sense the mills
I sense the third day of the flood, the karst burns
the arc of trimmings, networks of dusty roads
I sense you and look at you, enchant and submerge you
where the wall will crumble, we crucify dreams
I crucify my lamb, a golden purse
I crucify the shining eyes of the buried, the burning vine
I crush hope and footsteps, the gestures of the meek
Translated from the Slovenian by Brian Henry