translucent time is closing up its moments/ and ripens inwards, throwing out its roots,/ it grows within me, occupies me wholly,/ its foliage flings me out deliriously,/ my thoughts are just its evanescent birds,/ its quicksilver circulating through my veins,/ tree of mind, fruits the flavor of time,/ oh life that may be lived and that now lived,/ time turning forward with a deep sea roar/ and falling back without a sideways glance,/ that which has been was not but is now being/ and silently flows onward, onward to/ another moment that evaporates . . .