where will I go to huntour own hour togetherI fell into the nightand melted almost to waterI could not hear and this made me fearthat there was some thief of noise
when at a distance the enemy appear on a hillit is no disaster for the hillthe water singing to the bridgeis past all fearthe night itself is safehowever we roar
what fear at every coughin the coffee housethe poorest bodymust be a wintermade of a hundred fishwith snow at the bottomthe dead come to lifeflesh hollow as waxthey inhabitthe violence of the windsand no dog but a wolfcould help us take joy