Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Think about craft and you are supposed to die from it,
The possibility of completion exactly describes it;
You have gone to bed, marrying yourself
And creating trials and tribulations for all the year.
I wonder whether I should repent?
Maybe the man will forgive my appearance
When it was bland, blind and bringing.
My likes and dislikes create discord,
With thoughtful silence, few men have been silent.
I imagine the biggest work for myself,
Engaged in holiness and its activity.