The limitless choices of the dispossessed clutter the park. Benches, well-lit day rooms, and clean laughter from a past that, confess it, was never
Translated by Adam J. Sorkin with the poet Without knowing the bounds, he lives beyond them. Great green oceans of leaves blanket the sky,
The last questions will be the first ones, undiminished, persistent. And when we conjure them again, the same cold wind will lift the elm