I walked behind him
Like a prisoner in his shadow
I did not stray
As he had wanted
I did not see whose paths we crossed
Despite his frequent salutations…
I emerged from the shroud of his shadow
Stealthily
And stung by the sun
I went back along the path
Straying in this way
I saw all that he had hid from me
All along the path
I saw who we’d been meeting
I began to hear what he had never told me
Despite his speech’s stress
He did not grant me much time
To reach my sun
I rebelled against his shadow’s chill
Against its gloom
I strode towards the rays of the sun
I stood until he left with his shadow
I waited
Until it died out
I walked alone
My shadow in front of me
Like a sash tossed over my shoulders
Yet I feared that some naïve passer-by
Would tread on it and fall captive
So I took another path
Wide and spacious
Where no-one walks behind another
[Vienna; May 9th, 2000]