I Ride Earth's Burning Carousel. Day In,

The Artist's Life Nourishes Itself On The Particular, The Concrete.

Can You Understand? Someone, Somewhere, Can You Understand Me A Little, Love Me A Little?

So Much Working, Reading, Thinking, Living To Do! A Lifetime Is Not Long Enough.

There I Went Again, Building Up A Glamorous Picture Of A Man Who Would Love Me Passionately The Minute He Met Me, And All Out Of A Few Prosy Nothings.

What I Didn't Say Was That Each Time I Picked Up A German Dictionary Or A German Book, The Very Sight Of Those Dense, Black, Barbed-wire Letters Made My Mind Shut Like A Clam.