Dear messengers, brothers of light,
welcome! We have been waiting
since the shining hope of your arriving
dawned, becoming more intimate with time than
ever, each second
bearing new hungers.
See, our hearts made a city in your name.
It is peopled with desire
to the brim, fat and flourishing.
So tell us:
Have you danced
on water, felt fire in the frost?
You are perfect prisms
full of the whitest light,
but earth is a blessed brown country;
its inheritors are rich.
Can you who know no envy
envy us, who have enjoyed all bitterness,
death and defeat?
Sometimes I question and other times
I’m sure: It must be
better to rise twice from dirt
than be born of and forever
live in air. Dear messengers of God,
is there any truth in such thought,