Classic Poem

But how to understand and how to name you,
O my ever-changing angels, transforming yourselves ceaselessly
You, in whom there is nothing that remains,
Immutable in itself, one entire day, one single hour?
Emerged from some golden unity, strange and vague,
You are born to perish and to flourish once again
In shapes more shifting than dreams.
You, Breath, you bound forth and become a Sound,
And you, Sound, a flame, and you, Flame, a dawn.
And the air is laden with flowers that are not yet,
But have already opened into a sky aglow with rays.