translated by William Arrowsmith
Between the chestnuts thudding down
and torrent’s wail,
all one sound,
the heart falters.
The coming winter shudders
in the north wind. I face
the ledge where the day’s first white
light dissolves in ice.
Marblings, branchings—
and suddenly, at a shake,
leaves spiralling, arrowing down
into the ditch.
In the mist of its own breath,
the last herd passes.

