Behind is the green sanctuary of men
where I resided, through the fair and
flowery gate I pass, I have left my
silver goblet and the silky liquor.
age after age I flow as the sweet wine
from one grail to another, wanderer
in pilgrimage, the sky is a blue child:
a descendent of the one before this.
as before us cities were brimming with
faces of strangers with strange names and strange eyes
when we are gone, children with new names
will tread the streets we trod our whole lives.
before these blossoms bloomed, before this vast
sanctuary began was another garden.
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