THE STARS GROW IN THE SPRING...

The stars grow in the spring
great as drops that quiver,
soft as living creatures
with white bodies a-shimmer.
swelling like sacred fruits,
falling near, near,
too ripeningly heavy
for fragile heavens to bear.

Trembling starry creatures,
fair and defencelessly naked,
yearning to loosen and glide,
to touch the earth and waken,
yearning to serve their fate,
written above depth in light,
yearning to fight and create
and taste death and life.

Heaviest and whitest of all
near the horizon hangs
one that is willing to fall
ripe and clear to the hand,
Sense that the hour is near.
Someone waits for us to meet.
Man with the temper of stars,
into my womb shake a fruit!

For more information, please visit the website of David McDuff and his own pages with the translations.