I WAS WITH THE crowd when I was in the road; Where the road ends I find myself alone with you. I knew not when my day dimmed into dusk and my companions left me. I knew not when your doors opened and I stood surprised at my own heart's music. But are there still traces of tears in my eyes though the bed is made, the lamp is lit, and we are alone, you and I?
WHEN I LINGERED among my hoarded treasure I felt like a worm that feeds in the dark upon the fruit where it was born. I leave this prison of decay. I care not to haunt the mouldy stillness, for I go in search of ever-lasting youth; I throw away all that is not one with my life nor as light as my laughter. I run through time and, O my heart, in your chariot dances the poet who sings while he wanders.