You’re so dark that Your very crude blackness
shines through my soul’s deepest night.
Whenever in despair I tread on my conscience,
You burst out in unstoppable furious might.
Your green dazzles me such that I see no trees,
neither youthful barley nor stinging nettles.
You occupy life’s sun-drinking progenies,
cooling yourself in rivulets between pebbles.
Your intransigence knows no measures, no remorse,
everything must be confirmed in Your fashion.
Even the redness of fire has only one purpose:
to whip up Your hunger, rage and passion.
I don’t know which color or shade I left out
but I do know that they are all but Your dance;
no way to be extricated from Your power.
Death is impossible. Nobody gets a chance.