In a late evening
Dark, but not so dark,
Out to the river, we walked
A strange river, to us
In strange fields, in a valley –
As strangers we strolled to the
Water, as sleeping falks do, in
Strange countries, who stroll
In an evening.
– and over the river, a mountain,
Alone, in the half dark,
A mass of dense darkness,
Of Blackness, and by it
A star – One Bright Star –
To the right of the mountain
and near to its top, very close
To it, one star alone – that
In light all the mass of the mountain
Held balanced; a memory
Shook us, that none of us had, but
All shared, and at once started
Talking, who all knew this picture;
This star and thus mountain, these
Masses and forces, these shapes and
Positions, this darkness and light –
In its infinite sum –
All we knew and remembered, who
Woke for a moment…
…in the midst of a journey
We never begin.
