As the future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future -- a terrible festival of dead leaves.

As the future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future -- a terrible festival of dead leaves.

Rising from the past, my shadow Is running in silence to meet me.

You do not know just what you've been forgiven.

We learned not to meet anymore, We don't raise our eyes to one another, But we ourselves won't guarantee What could happen to us in an hour.

If you were music I would listen to you ceaselessly And my low spirits would brighten up.

... he is rewarded with a form of eternal childhood, with the bounty and vigilance of the stars, the whole world was his inheritance and he shared it with everyone.