God had given us heavy souls of stone.
Then we stood on the shore of the sea,
where the sunbeams leapt, where the foam danced, where the gulls sailed
in light.
Then we hurled the stones in a game of dying. One must
do something with stones.
They grazed the surface, they bounded in arcs, they glided
over the deep like winds!
And happy is our sleep: it is touched by wings, by swallows that hurtle
over the water.
For more information, please visit the website of David McDuff and his own pages with the translations.