The dull sound of a bell jar in the bottom of deep well of oblivion.
I desire to extinguish, was not aware, nor a fleeting memory or a farewell.
The leaves do not fall in the autumn sun, and life goes on silent trees. Resigned
living praise, my thoughts to do with hoary breath.
do not dream and do not want, but the field. The wheat buried in my own duty. Offered to the Passover blood
I burn, and mere contemplation of stupid things.
Palco immaculate from the impression, closed by curtains blind, mute actor behind.
insignificance as the cloud, the foam or the bubbling gasp of the rains. Thought
unaware of jellyfish, such as vacuum liquid careless split,
mindful of anything and nothing definite bitter note nonsense reverie. On the morning twilight
jump on the property that it holds hair
the desire of the non-existence gives me sharp eyes, is his tribute.
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