Understand One Single Day Fully, So You

Damned, Damned Be The Rich! May Not Even Their Fingernails Be Left!... I'm Sure That They Are Going To Hell Head-first.

We're All Like The Little Sailor. From The Harbors We Hear The Strains Of Accordions And The Murky Soapy Noises Of The Docks, From The Mountains We Receive The Dish Of Silence That The Shepherds Eat, But We Don't Hear More Than Our Own Distances. And What Distances Without End And Without Doors And Without Mountains!

In Our Eyes The Roads Are Endless. Two Are Crossroads Of The Shadow.

There Is Nothing More Poetic And Terrible Than The Skyscrapers' Battle With The Heavens That Cover Them. Snow, Rain, And Mist Highlight, Drench, Or Conceal The Vast Towers, But Those Towers, Hostile To Mystery And Blind To Any Sort Of Play, Shear Off The Rain's Tresses And Shine Their Three Thousand Swords Through The Soft Swan Of The Fog.

In The Garden I Will Die. In The Rosebush They Will Kill Me.