Fire is a young body.
The winds of doubt will not touch it.
It refuses to dress in anything
but black garments.
It exists since the beginning
on the fruit of the waters.
The fruit is a useful bird
that flies without wings
to the land of light. It builds its nest
in the dark. And it returns
crawling on flames of waves.
Waves are a gleaming night
that throbs eternally from within
itself. It never appears except to those
who know the art of enchantment,
and fear to reveal in public
the secret of the river.
—Translated by Vivian Eden