Haikus

The grey clouds are my friends.
They visit me every evening
With messages from the West.

28.4.2002

*

What is the wine you bring me, Cupbearer?
Ah, it is the bitter wine of separation.
But at the bottom of the cup
There is the taste of union.

10.10.2002

*

Beauty such as yours
Is for seeing, not touching.
Perhaps not even for seeing
Except with closed eyes.

20.07.2002

*

The ship sails on its way
Leaving behind a brilliant wake
On which the moon shines
Dazzlingly.

12.08.2002