Amazing solitude.
Only me and my cigarette,
and this tiny dragonfly
painted in Moldavian monastery blue.
Nothing threatens me,
not even the sun.
The sky is an immense cloud
made of mother-of-pearl.
The lake is an immense cloud
made of mother-of-pearl.
I am the mermaid of the lake.
— I am an infinite melody
like the murmur of the rain.
And I am clean,
like the poem I'm writing.
...
A withered rose is a withered rose
is a withered rose.
Its head bows in mourning,
it sheds pink petals
like enormous tears.
My head also contemplates the floor
where nothing grows.
...
Between the sun and me
there is a veil of quietude
which protects my eyes
from the scratch of light
which spares my being
from the blister of knowledge
which allows my self
to breathe undisturbed.
So now the war is over
and now the love is over:
How beautiful the death
well prepared in advance.
...