Emigrant Psalm


By: Vedran Husić


Walk out of your house, walk out of your city,

silent as the path ahead; do not curse fate

or look back at the squat blue shadows of sheep

over the pasture’s fire-green symmetry:

memory will not bear an immaculate

return or retrieve what the eye cannot keep.


The thread of your joy has broken from its loom.

No second season awaits, but you forget.

Far from home, your existence becomes life’s mime:

words calling after you from the dark assume

no signifying light, and no strong regret

occasions the salvage of the wrecks of time.