You’ll open your new eyes and you will see
the well, the house and the cypress white,
but care not to come too close to it,
just say: “I’ve done my due, and I am now free,
please let me in, you kind ones, to the light.”
You’ll open your old eyes, and you will see
the well, the house and the cypress black,
come up as close to it as you are able to,
and say: “I failed to live, and I am now free,
please let me in, you harsh ones, to the dark.”
And they will open their squeaking gates,
and you will pass through them and disappear
into the waving azure, and the sun,
among the poplars, poppies and the lakes,
of which one neither speaks, nor holds one’s peace...
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