Van Gogh's Prayer

A battle lost in the cornfields

and in the sky a victory.

Birds, the sun and birds again.

By night, what will be left of me?

By night, only a row of lamps,

a wall of yellow clay that shines,

and down the garden, through the trees,

like candles in a row, the panes;

there I dwelt once and dwell no longer—

I can't live where I once lived, though

the roof there used to cover me.

Lord, you covered me long ago.