Translation:The Distant Steps

My father is sleeping. His august demeanor represents a gentle heart; he is so sweet now... and if anything in him is bitter, it must be me.

There’s solitude in the home, he prays and there is no news from the children today. My father awakens, sounding the flight to Egypt, the healing farewell. He’s now so close; and if anything is far from him, it must be me.

And my mother walks over there in the gardens savoring a taste now without taste. She’s now so soft, such a wing, such an exit, such love.

There’s solitude in the home without quarrels, without news, without greenery, without childhood. And if this evening anything is shattered and descends and rustles, it is the two white paths, curved. Through them my heart goes on foot.