Author: Johannes Anyuru trans. Brad Harmon

THROUGH THE LAKE, THROUGH THE WATER The beeches stand there, imposing, untouched,steeped in time: I wanderthrough the tall yellow hall of leavesand listen to the openchords: October, whoever cries herecries inwards,the wood bridge has sucked the salve dry.The underworldly bamboo flutes resound through the lake, through the water, the wind islead poured into stone molds.…