When you reach that place
you are translated
and I can no longer read you
A tightrope walker has been at work,
running the risk of getting the balance wrong
and falling
or a ferryman,
bringing you across rough seas
for whatever price is right
maybe an alchemist,
changing you from clay to gold
in little more than an instant
Now I am left with a commentary
that tries to unravel you
in my own language
tries to describe the unknowable journey
and the place you reached
I can no longer read you for myself:
you are somewhere else,
somewhere full of ecstasy
and empty of explanation
It is good to see you there