You, you who sleep

You, you who sleep

With flowers on your eyes −

You who twist and call for the light

Early in the morning, as your legs

Frantically twitch, as if you're running

From something −

Your body is hewn of the tall grass that waves

Woven in sunlight,

Your hair falls on the pillow

And in your sleep you tuck it under you.

You, who are always in motion −

I subtract from all your superimpositions

The mass of your shadow to equal

You.