And Our Problems Will Crumble Apart, The

I Should Like To Sleep Like A Cat, With All The Fur Of Time, With A Tongue Rough As Flint, With The Dry Sex Of Fire; And After Speaking To No One, Stretch Myself Over The World, Over Roofs And Landscapes, With A Passionate Desire To Hunt The Rats In My Dreams.

Perhaps The Earth Can Teach Us As When Everything Seems Dead And Later Proves To Be Alive

Megaphone In Which The Wind Passes Singing.

I Spin On The Circle Of Wave Upon Wave Of The Sea.

We The Mortals Touch The Metals, The Wind, The Ocean Shores, The Stones, Knowing They Will Go On, Inert Or Burning, And I Was Discovering, Naming All The These Things: It Was My Destiny To Love And Say Goodbye.