A Labyrinth Of Symbols... An Invisible Labyrinth

The Time For Your Labor Has Been Granted.

We Have Shared Out, Like Thieves, The Amazing Treasures Of Days And Nights.

I Cannot Walk Through The Suburbs In The Solitude Of The Night Without Thinking That The Night Pleases Us Because It Suppresses Idle Details, Just As Our Memory Does.

The Certainty That Everything Has Already Been Written Annuls Us, Or Renders Us Phantasmal.

Once I Am Dead, There Will Be No Lack Of Pious Hands To Throw Me Over The Railing; My Grave Will Be The Fathomless Air; My Body Will Sink Endlessly And Decay And Dissolve In The Wind Generated By The Fall, Which Is Infinite.