After all things occurred to me, 

the void occurred to me.

There is a limit 

to the pleasure I had in form…

I am not like you in this, 

I have no release in another body, 

I have no need 

of shelter outside myself …

My poor inspired 

creation, you are 

distractions, finally, 

mere curtailment; you are 

too little like me in the end 

to please me.

And so adamant - 

you want to be paid off 

for your disappearance, 

all paid in some part of the earth, 

some souvenir, as you were once 

rewarded for labor, 

the scribe being paid 

in silver, the shepherd in barley 

although it is not earth 

that is lasting, not 

these small chips of matter…

If you would open your eyes
you would see me, you would see 

the emptiness of heaven 

mirrored on earth, the fields 

vacant again, lifeless, covered with snow…

then white light 

no longer disguised as matter. 

Louise Glück – (settembre 2003)

Traduzione italiana

END OF SUMMER