The poem
That is my window. Just now I have so softly wakened. I thought that I would float. How far does my life reach, and where does the night begin
I could think that everything was still me all around; transparent like a crystal's depths, darkened, mute.
I could keep even the stars within me; so immense my heart seems to me; so willingly it let him go again.
whom I began perhaps to love, perhaps to hold. Like something strange, undreamt-of, my fate now gazes at me.
For what, then, am I stretched out beneath this endlessness, exuding fragrance like a meadow, swayed this way and that,
calling out and frightened that someone will hear the call, and destined to disappear inside some other life.