clouds

I translated a poem this morning. I like it, so I'm posting it.

Clouds

There is nothing that is not
a cloud. The cathedrals of unbound
stone, yes, and the stained glass,
all wait to be erased.
The Odyssey, shifting with the sea,
is strange again with each new reading.
Already, your face in the mirror has changed
and the day is a dissimulating labyrinth.
We are the ones who go. The cloud that disintegrates
is our image. Incessantly, the rose becomes another rose.
You are the clouds, you are the sea, you are oblivion.
You are the one you have lost.

--Jorge Luis Borges
(trans. William Emery)