Look: up every bone every sky every day every you–
he goes working his
way up blue earlobes from ocean goes
thrown by rosesudden someone’s
already tomorrow goes riding his bed of daysided gold goes skimming
sleep countries from west to east until sudden
rosestopped someone’s
already earliness opens the back of the clock: he
steps in.

Fragment 8 [that lucky old Sun]
Translated by Anne Carson



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