I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers
Faces and darkness separate us over and over

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me
Searching my reaches for what she really is
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands
I am important to her. She comes and goes
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish