Go out a little from yourself as you sit here,
Maybe to the path outside the window,
Maybe to an idea,
Or to in the next row an absorbing form.
Reject most of the lecture,
Most of your thought, most that the window bears,
Maybe the whole morning. There is being sifted
The sand of your time, turning as you turn.
I am beside you and we are exchanging
several aspects of the ideas of history,
From their glosses there are being sifted
Sands of a time only becoming yours.
Sift me away and sift the whole morning.
Some day, not accountable, you may look down
To see in your palm as on a field of history
The grain of time you recognize as yours.