In front of the Rapperswil peninsula
A footbridge leads to the paths of St. James of Compostela
The sun reflects on the ice of the lake
Hundreds of thrushes darken the shores

A ferry connects Horgen and Meilen
It passes quietly in front of the island of Ufenau
The morning strips its shoulders wet with dew
A passenger let fly a white handkerchief

To the north-east of the lake of Zürich,
The Limmat flows in front of the Fraumünster church
With stained glass windows signed by Chagall and Giacometti
What are these trees that obscure God’s view of the church?

Zürich is encircled by wise hills
The wind has moved the grasses that were waiting for the summer
They have cried for a long time this morning their dew
Mixes with the river water this evening

The valley of the Sihl extends at our feet
The Alps are only a mirage in the mist
A train whistled in the distant horizon
I heard the voice of an angel in the darkness

Was it the chirping of one of the mountain birds?
I couldn’t tell, I was walking and looking at the rock
For a long time and my steps led me to the watershed
Between the blue transparency of the Limmat and the Glatt

The altitude increases my breathing accelerates
Your name is only a memory and Zürich
Has absorbed each cloud of my clear mind
The wind wraps itself like a boa around the alpine pines

James Joyce waved to me, crouching
On his grave in the Funtern Cemetery
Pale pink begonias like tears scattered on the gravel
I saw a wisp of smoke from the groundskeeper’s cap