The secret

When the month passes with yellow hair,
Then from the heavenly black fields
That single word fell like a drop:
Then I understood what my loneliness is. . .
And I understood, as if enchanted,
What is the meaning of my fear among things.

Spread the morning like flames,
A thousand white wings across the sea,
And the bright earth spread the signs,
And words all over the white marble.
Then, faced with the secret that she was dying,
All the mouths spoke things.

Creator, through storm and through silence,
I listen to all your great voices;
And I'm waiting when you've passed all the paths
In the field through our bright spikes,
The end of the road to me atom hidden,
To come to those classes:
And you call me by my real name.