Dance

Tonight I hid my wheat beneath the soil — the frost will pass, for the earth has not been still for several centuries — for the earth has for several centuries passed absolute zero The warmth of the sun turns, shines our frost, in the radiance of the bright sun, crumbles your clear stream will flow over my hidden wheatfield The wheat has grown tall: its braided crown is my hair its slender stalk is my body this is all of me: naked, fearless, hand in hand with the wind whirling, on tiptoe, joyful, joyful My kind one, come! The warmth of the sun is shining: my dance, buried alive, will rise one day from beneath the soil...