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This poem is taken from PN Review 105, Volume 22 Number 1, September - October 1995.

Fragments translated by Christopher Middleton Christoph Meckel

-and in deeper galleries you wander, at a loss,
caverns drip and echo, sharp wet rock
rips your hands, through
the dark tenfold unlit descending
hear him underneath you bellow,
know he is one of us, the Minotaur,
that you are the news he is waiting for -


-behind the house, in early sun,
I saw the fern unfurl,
nettle sprout, and was
for moments richer than
these sentences which know, perhaps,
of me, of light, of death, a thing or two -


-opened up the house
  as if for ever
and shut the door
  as if for ever
 shut the door
     as if for ever -


- when the Unseen quit me

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