Give them back what’s no longer present in them.

They’ll see again the harvest grain enclosed in the wheat

and waving over the grass

Teach them, from fall to rise, the twelve months of their

visage.

They’ll cherish the void of their heart until the next

desire:

For naught makes shipwreck or is not pleased with

ashes;

And who can see the earth end in fruits

Is not fazed by failure though he’d lost everything.

René Char