Back in the Room

My tower hidden in the clouds still stands somewhere

After escaping and regaining my freedom,
I finally regained a taste for pleasures:
For the fruits rising before me,
like spring after a winter dark and cold;
Like a bud unfolding 
though its seasons have grown old.

And yet, while wandering along the nearby shores,
my tower hidden in the clouds still stands somewhere.
In dreams, I see myself here and there.
Everything feels so gentle, so light —
And at the same time, 
so tangled, so heavy to bear.

It is then that, at times, 
in full consciousness, 
I decide to go to my belfry.

“It doesn’t seem so terrible.
I can easily step in and out as I please.
The door is wide open, you see.”

After a long silence, I enter my room
And linger there for a while.
Suddenly, the mist takes shape.
It fills the space.

I come back out rather quickly, without strain,
and tell myself I have conquered
the malevolent spirit dwelling within.
So I return again, from time to time.

I go there, come back, 
during the night, during the day, 
in the morning or at sunset. 
I am the only guest there. 

When suddenly, without warning, 
I wake up in my room, 
searching in vain for the key, 
lost in the mist.