sobbing on the staircase,
but the tears weren't mine...
the flashbacks assault your body like
hailstorms on fragile glass...
White paths, winding, secret
From the mountain down to the village...
The physical world is an insult
to the human soul...
Let it be summer again
I am tired of the winter...
It must snow, no silent sky
Because it is—well, Christmas today...
Time devours without malice,
that is its ruthlessness...
There is a state of consciousness
in which the collective...
When someone is better than me,
I feel happy...
Another spring sun warms the grass
I trace the names in leaning stone...
By the way
By the way...
Happiness fills my eyes with joy
Happiness makes me excited and thrilled...