Soft eyes, and still face grows blindness,
Your gloom besets when shut are the eyes.
Blind beauty promises unique changes always enormous,
The sleep is a song of the void, the lies.
...
Treasure is a lovely love, a built book,
One of the heavens contains the treasure.
Treasure forbade me to truly become you,
Understanding the gold and silver is becoming clear.
...
Unutterable words have been spoken by the man in front of me,
Fools sway, in institutions and in parks, with drink and joy.
Words are hastened in speech, in writing by the professions,
As professors teach new skills only to move onwards in life.
...
I clash with books, with words of enormous depth,
The meaning on the page is that of beauty.
I see fire in the whole of literature, the whole poison,
When information has a path, forming beauty.
...
A bubbly drink has entered my stomach,
Through a period of time, in a minute.
The whole question is answered,
A little worry has disappeared,
...
It is terminated, finished and complete,
The writing on the pages of my book.
I have learnt of the distress, the look of disease,
Such as intelligence and wisdom of hard strength.
...
The rain petered out after days,
Suddenly the rain began always.
The fashion of the club we call the nation
Was a fashion of rain, rain and erosion.
...