Fairy Tale

He built himself a house,

                   his foundations,

                   his stones,

                   his walls,

                   his roof overhead,

                   his chimney and smoke,

                   his view from the window.

He made himself a garden,

                   his fence,

                   his thyme,

                   his earthworm,

                   his evening dew.

He cut out his bit of sky above.

And he wrapped the garden in the sky

and the house in the garden

and paced a lo in a handkerchief

and went off

lone as an arctic fox

through the cold

unending

rain

into the world.

(Miroslav Holub, English translation by George Theiner)