The spirit's flower blossomed; the spirit is water
During the mindlessness of time, I plundered
My swing; it was a state of weeping
I turned out, as it might be, to be a cloud
Departing, today, towards the remotest places
I bend as a king; torn by eagles,
Bats and questions
O Bomb! Be silent
I come, today, out of your bitter cave
I hide in your corridors
I happily stab the wind
I hide like the sleeping years
like unoppressed king.