(literal translation – the original is an octave with rhyme scheme ABABAB CC)
The air turned clean and glassy,
Heavy grey silt settled to the bottom.
The empty cup stood silent, frozen,
The chaotic hum of movement stopped.
Only the sound of a drop from a branch becomes singular,
In that small drop all the riot fell quiet.
Light falls upon the wall through the window,
Its presence – all that we are given.
(verse rendering – rhyme and form preserved, some liberties taken)
The air grew clean and still like polished glass,
Heavy grey silt descended to the floor.
The empty cup fell mute and would not pass,
The hum of chaotic motion – nevermore.
One drop from the branch hushed all the mass
Of riot, settling to its quiet core.
Light through the window falls upon the wall,
Its presence – all we’re given. That is all.