Pilgrimage to a mountain shrine

Whithersoever I wander you are there

A single image, that is what I feel

Can it be that you are found in such a silence

In the chilliness of your own shrine?

From outside hither to this place

Come whistlings of birds glorifying dawn

Now I have come, there is none but me

And the chill of an air not sunwarmed.

Amen.

Sitor Situmorang
after the French translation of Louis-Charles Damais