I Can't Even Make Up A Rhyme

But Now It Was Spring Again, And Spring Was Almost Unbearable For Sensitive Hearts. It Drove Creation To Its Utmost Limits, It Wafted Its Spice-laden Breath Even Into The Nostrils Of The Innocent.

Earth And Sea Merged, The Sea Tossed Itself In The Air In A Fantastic Dance, Into The Shapes Of Men And Horses And Tattered Banners. I Stood In The Lee Of An Overhanging Rock And Thought Of Many Things.

Love Is Every Bit As Violent And Dangerous As Murder.

In My Solitude, Many Miles From Men And Houses, I Am In A Childishly Happy And Carefree State Of Mind, Which You Are Incapable Of Understanding Unless Someone Explains It To You

There Was A Rock In Front Of My Hut, A Tall, Gray Rock. By Its Looks It Seemed To Be Well-disposed Toward Me.