on peut voir l’éternelle

How slow is each second

and yet quick every year?

The snail and the dragonfly

know each other, too well.

Eternity is a friend

waiting at the door,

had I but something

to offer him in return.

Nothing is a meal

that breaks any fast

much more than whole

and always enough.

As the autumn leaves turn

and winter snow falls,

it is only I who remain,

I, whatever, I am.

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