Now I Pass - Paul La Cour

Now I pass into the stone,
soon I am mountain and cold,
if I cannot open my depths,
I must become a lock.
One day the mountains will break,
one day the locks will spring open,
the stone lift its dreaming eye
and strangely burst into song.
If I can pass through the rock,
forget my unrest in the dark,
wait out my stone life until the end,
then my lock will spring open,
then naked in the grass
I will return transmuted,
then I will come nameless,
then my hand will have become a wing,
then I am words that are silent,
floating stillness, innocence,
streams of unconsciousness,
then my spring-tide has come.

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Paul La Cour (1902 – 1956) Denmark