There is a mystery you cannot control
You can only play the role of a bystander
And allow the power of the mystery
To transmit its signals from some faraway place
Emitting beams of light, piercing your heart
Like tonight, at Hargai
This desolate place far from any city
In the high tablelands of Qinghai and Tibet
By a railway station the size of a broad bean
I lift my head up and gaze at the starry sky
At this moment the Milky Way is silent; tenuous wings
Sink down, startling some wretched horses
Into fleeing towards me, I stand motionless
And let the splendour of the stars like millions of feet
Trample my shoulders into an altar
Like a child receiving the Eucharist
I pluck up my courage, but hold my breath