Song of the calm morning

The sun has been gilding
the long dream of water.
These tired eyes,
of the one who attained calmness,
have looked, have understood,
and forgotten.

Far away, beyond the sea,
goes my boat.
From inland, a song
on the air accompanies it:
"You will get lost on the way
that has no return."

Under the merciful light
of the morning, in the house
of the dead of my old name,
I say today: "I still am."
Tomorrow I shall sleep
without fear or regret.
And the serenity of marble
will kiss the new gold.

Lonely, in the peace
of the garden of the five trees,
I have already harvested my time,
the rare white rose.
Summoned, now I will enter
the dark dwellings.