to experience what we left to find.
And in whatever cities we stay
it is the houses where it is too late to return
the gardens where its too late to spend a moonlit night
and the women whom it's too late to love
that disturb us with their intangible presence.
And whatever streets we think we know
take us past the gardens we are searching for
whose heavy fragrance spreads throughout the neighborhood.
And whatever houses we return to
we arrive too late at night to be recognized.
And in whatever rivers we look for our reflections
we see ourselves only when we have turned our backs.
from The Vintage Book of Contemporary World Literature
Translated from the Danish by the author and Alexander Taylor
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