After the confusion and the night
a light flares from the houses,
deeper in, a light so strong
it swallows up the night:
a group, a throng of joy,
has disobeyed the order of the night,
accompanied, in their stubbornness to live,
by the desiring flowers, plants
and their pulsing nocturnal breath.
Together, infringing on the threat
of night, the stark command against their gathering,
they’re earthbound stars beyond the night,
a long-lifed swarm, there are so many of them,
and just one night.
From The Brush
Translated by Robin Myers