pointed cross
Thatover the eaves
Of the chapel
Abandoned small
Towers
Large and high.
Pointed cross of a
Thousand storms
And more.
The even song will be
The dirge of the red
Dusk. [
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is symbolic of something that the churches once provided for us: a direction home, a mark of faith, a promise of rest. But now it seems that church is just a feature of the landscape, an architectural marvel. But the symbol of the cross has prevailed even if faith in it has eroded. I'm reminded of Heidegger's idea that our age is waiting for the return if the gods.