If I could live without speaking to anyone,
and only communing with animals and plants,
how serenely and agilely my heart would frisk about.
I would then share everything with them,
and, as infinitely rich and trivial as the world,
would dance in space airily and gambol over mountains and fields.
I’d be on speaking terms with fishes all day long,
even birds would send us their secret signs,
while the wind would tickle our ears or spear our brains
and convey only the necessary.

And if I could remain completely silent with everyone,
I would be a dwelling place for insects and worms to inhabit freely,
and I’d be mountains and rivers,
solidifying and flowing,
sometimes thundering, burning and roaring,
sometimes hiccupping and saying ‘Whoosh!’.
On the other hand, however, I would be utterly silent,
and end up in flying through space like the earth,
silently growing old with the world.