Are you a pear tree or a beech tree,
A birch grove, a little ivy leaf?
I am looking for you, my brother, and I am looking
For the thing,
Into which God has changed you.

Is your soul bound to a form,
Is it a living one or inanimate?
I will love it as I have found it,
And even in stone it is familiar to me.

Is it a blade of grass, a lilac bloom?
I will ask the sun to make
Completely golden with its fire,
Each being which resembles yours.

I will have compassion on the little beetle,
That struggles upwards out of your grave,
I will embrace the wood and the sand on it,
I will bless the bird that sings above it.

But if you are a thought and if, in thinking it
I might transcend earthly limits,
Then I want to immerse myself in it so deeply
That I find you again in the Godhead.