man
has in his poor heart
places
which do not exist
yet
and where
pain
enters
in order that,
that they would be.
and I understand
better
why I met with
so many problems
beginning
just now
I know very well
now,
what was the voice
which I should have wanted
to precede me
to bear me
to invite me
to speak
and which itself dwells
in my own discourse
I know
what was
so petrifying
in starting
to speak
since I was starting
in this place
where I once listened to him
and where he no longer is
himself
to hear me
oh that
guessing the moment
the loneliest
of nature
my melody
complete and unique
rises
into the night
and redoubles
and does
everything that it can
and speaks the thing
which is the thing
and falls back down
and re-echos
and brings grief
oh
alone of sobbing
and re-echos
and falls again
according to the task
that is assigned it
sometimes I hear
men
telling stories
sometimes
I hear
men telling stories
of the pleasure
that they took
with this one
or that one
oh
it is not
coarseness
the words sometimes
very precise
no
but I do not know
I wanted
to tell them
let's see
let's see
it was something else
something else...
בכל הבלוגים
שם בלוג/בלוגר
