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to Jeff Fahey * * *(translation) My stairs were covered with ice. And there, behind the line of clouds Their curves gathered into one breathing, Your breathing over me. I couldn’t rise yet, And the days of my ideas passed. I didn’t learn to fear And fell among stones. My knees were hurt and covered with blood, My hands were wounded. There was not any light and Shadows lay upon my heart. And it seemed to me, that you were a darkness, Covering the white light. And it seemed that your breath over me Was carrying death to me. But the kind heart was oozing out By your tenderness; and the ice was melting. And everything that suddenly was revealed in you Was like a sweet honey. ~ ~ ~ ~