Vladimir Holan - Czechoslovakia

Stone and star do not force their music on us,

flowers are silent, things hold something back,

because of us, animals deny

their own harmony of innocence and stealth,

the wind has always its chastity of simple gesture

and what song is only the mute birds know,

to whom you tossed an unthreshed sheaf on Christmas Eve.

To be is enough for them and that is beyond words. But we,

we are afraid not only in the dark,

even in the abundant light

we do not see our neighbour

and desperate for exorcism

cry out in terror: 'Are you there? Speak!'