Translation/Collaboration from/with a poem by Claire Goll

You are tender
like the finger marks
of a bird in snow

subtle
like the bend
of June sunflowers

You are sad
like the larch in the mountains
with disheveled hair

quiet
like the breeze
on Monarch’s wings

You are sweet
like the dates
of Biblical palms

And yet you are strong
as a cyclone as a gale
as the bronze doors of the temple