Who keeps the rock on track?

who mows the grass?

who closed for us the places

on the other side of the road?

Those who ate with spoons,

took the stones along with them

in their shoes

and left long ago.

Who will still help us,

who leaves now the sun

its easy game?

Are we left alone from tree to tree

or will the shadows,

those comforters

soon move from their nets

and come down to us?

Ilse Aichinger (Vienna 1921 –11.11 2016)

Translation: Germain Droogenbroodt

From „Verschenkter Rat“, S. Fischer Verlag

The recently passed away Aichinger was one of the most important modern Austrian poets