On a small hill

One day I stood.

I looked down at the lake, the day

of storms. At that point/then I saw the waves

Raising and lowering. Expanding,

Rotating, colliding and bringing about foam

Like mad bulls in a valley without grass.

How they got in order!

How they weakened and started again!

Never have I seen before.

I saw them lowering intensely

And raising in a hurry, pushed by

The winds from the West and East.

Exactly like this is our world.

And the life of human beings.

They raise and lower

Pushed by the winds of time.

Look how they snatch power for themselves

Like a drowning man grips the leg of his friend!

How they grip money like a child

Grips the picture of a doll

Or a soldier grips his rifle

And silences us!

They will raise and lower

And really fall!

Pushed by the wind of time.