***[When I write]

Poem By Doris Kareva

When I write
I shepherd unheeding words
on the nigh impossible slope
of the pass of silence.

When I write
I practise mastery of shadows
with cool wrist and rapier
on the verge of final darkness.

When I write
I write an utterly forbidding language;
my ultimate feast is to fast,
the very unearthing of heaven.

Translated from Estonian by Miriam McIlfatrick-Ksenofontov

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