My Days Were Divided

My days were divided,

for often I traveled by the honest path,

simple and open-handed,

yet other times, hunched over,

I gnawed on roots that feed the fever.

My death, however, will be of one kind only,

renouncing with a single bell all trouble and distress,

bursting the seams of all definite dimension,

erupting with rainbow rays,

leaping up and returning to the secret state—

traceless and unshakable.

So as I go, even now,

I scatter before myself my ashes,

to restore the land and renew it,

to cast off from it the grime of our scheming and misplaced hope,

and the heavy shadows of our habitation,

that the land also may return to its nature,

lifting us into its endless flight.