Every Day You Play With The Light

Why Do Trees Conceal The Splendor Of Their Roots?

The Road Made Wet By The Water Of August Shines Like It Was Cut In Full Moonlight

A Book, A Book Full Of Human Touches, Of Shirts, A Book Without Loneliness, With Men And Tools, A Book Is Victory.

In The Distance Someone Is Singing.

I Don't Want To Go On Being A Root In The Dark, Vacillating, Stretched Out, Shivering With Sleep, Downward, In The Soaked Guts Of The Earth, Absorbing And Thinking, Eating Each Day.