These people are happy,
for they’ve been given the enchanted dream of stupidity.
The wind seems to be easterly,
perhaps because it smells vaguely ripe and green,
like the adjacent market.
I’ve dreamed a great deal.
Once or twice I’ve made the trip,
and by my intention.
Ah,
to be able to construct a complete Whole,
to compose something that would be like a human body,
with perfect harmony among all its parts,
and with a life,
a life of unity and congruency,
uniting the scattered traits of its various parts.
Does anyone know the borders of his soul,
that he can say ‘I am I’? But I know that I’m the one who feels what I feel.
We no longer knew ourselves.