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Lament (O how all things are far removed)

 O how all things are far removed
and long have passed away.
I do believe the star, whose light my face reflects, is dead and has been so for many thousand years.
I had a vision of a passing boat and heard some voices saying disquieting things.
I heard a clock strike in some distant house.
.
.
but in which house?.
.
.
I long to quiet my anxious heart and stand beneath the sky's immensity.
I long to pray.
.
.
And one of all the stars must still exist.
I do believe that I would know which one alone endured, and which like a white city stands at the ray's end shining in the heavens.

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