Sun were strolling over me…
And that drop, with which I wished to extinguish you…
That drop, me, from me –
and you shone again.
You woke my dreams
with your burning, sticky rays
that ripen me.
Sun, I’ll stroll over you,
I’ll drink you up, I’ll take you.
Now you’ve taken me…
Alenka H., 2000-2010, translation