I close my eyes,
five fingers blind,
black with needle,
gold with thread,
I sew the living,
wake the dead,
black with needle,
gold with thread,
I close my eyes,
five fingers blind,
sew the living,
wake the dead.
one to his heart,
which he cannot feel,
black is the needle,
on his spinning wheel,
numb is the man,
with his own two hands,
who stabs with a knife,
one to his heart,
but he cannot feel,
when black is the needle,
from his spinning wheel.
two to his eyes,
for the twin empty hollows,
black is the needle,
which weeps with his sorrows,
blind is the man
with his own two hands,
who threads his lids shut,
with two to his eyes,
for the twin empty hollows,
when black is the needle,
which wept with his sorrows.
three to his right hand,
pinned to the cross,
black is the needle,
which holds on to his loss,
blind is the man
with his own two hands,
who attacks out of faith,
with three to his right hand,
pinned to the cross,
when black is the needle,
which holds on to his loss
four to his shoulders
bent over and broke,
black is the needle,
which puppets his stroke,
blind is the man
with his own two hands,
who pulls on his threads
with four to his shoulders
bent over and broke,
when black is the needle
which puppets his stroke
five is to her,
the mother and girl,
gold is her thread,
which tightens her curls
blind is the man,
with his own two hands,
who straightens the weave,
when five is to her
the mother and girl
when gold is her thread
which tightens her curls
I close my eyes,
five fingers blind,
black with needle,
gold with thread,
I sew the living,
wake the dead,
black with needle,
gold with thread,
I open my eyes,
five fingers blind,
sew the living,
wake the dead.
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