A pretty girl… and a handsome boy
There sweaty hands were exchanging a ball in the shape of the cosmos
Shouting…expirations… joyful laughing … dispersed in the limitless horizon

A sad bird said: they are so happy…
A faltering drunk said: they are so miserable …
A foolish tourist said: they are so reasonable…
And you, Rainer Maria Rilke, what do you say?
Who plays with whom, you oracle, relegated to the extramundane ?

Are these Orpheus and Eurydice with their ball
Radames and Aïda…
Kaïs and Leila…
Tristan and Iseult…
Aragon and Elsa
Or are they Rainer and Lou Andreas-Salome ?

Dust flying in the air with pride?
Water pouring out of admiration
A sacred fire blessing: thank you almighty god
While a violent wind squeezes into ball’s entrails since the beginning of time

Shouting…expirations… joyful laughing … dispersed in the limitless horizon
So who plays with whom? You wise looking from the Italian veranda
At a death not like other death
Who plays with whom? You maker of words and metaphors that cannot be compared
And the mooring accounts and scenes.