That shows not what's changing in it as it burns,
For the directive spirit of the earth entire,
Loves the figure of flight not so much as the point where it turns.
Who cleaves to bare survival is already arrested,
and how safe really is that unremarkable gray?
Faraway a supreme endurance warns against hardening,
as if an invisible hammer were suspended in air.
Whoever pours out like a stream is beckoned to know
and at last is led through the play of harmonies
that end at the start and begin in the ending.
Every fortunate moment where two can cross paths,
and be astonished, is the offspring of our departure. And so
the fleet-formed Daphne, transformed into laurel,
wants you to turn into wind.