Eternity. It Is The Sea Mingled With

The Poet Makes Himself A Voyant Through A Long, Immense Reasoned Deranging Of All His Senses. All The Forms Of Love, Of Suffering, Of Madness; He Tries To Find Himself, He Exhausts In Himself All The Poisons, To Keep Only Their Quintessences.

On The Blue Summer Evenings, I Will Go Along The Paths, And Walk Over The Short Grass, As I Am Pricked By The Wheat: Daydreaming I Will Feel The Coolness On My Feet. I Will Let The Wind Bathe My Bare Head. I Will Not Speak, I Will Have No Thoughts: But Infinite Love Will Mount In My Soul; And I Will Go Far, Far Off, Like A Gypsy, Through The Countryside - As Happy As If I Were A Woman. "sensation

I Found I Could Extinguish All Human Hope From My Soul.

And From That Time On I Bathed In The Poem Of The Sea, Star-infused And Churned Into Milk, Devouring The Green Azures; Where, Entranced In Pallid Flotsam, A Dreaming Drowned Man Sometimes Goes Down.

Now I Am An Outcast. I Loathe My Country. The Best Thing For Me Is A Drunken Sleep On The Beach.