somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

any experience,your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose  me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too  near

You need not leave your room.

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers, 

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

Remain sitting at your table and listen.

or if your wish be to close me,i and

my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending; 

You need not even listen, simply wait, just learn to become quiet, and still and solitary.

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands 

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

Sometimes we artists can create something  beautifully, suddenly  that we never planned at all - if we will simply listen.