Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?

On the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet. I will let the wind bathe my bare head. I will not speak, I will have no thoughts: But infinite love will mount in my soul; And I will go far, far off, like a gypsy, through the countryside - as happy as if I were a woman. "Sensation

Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?

O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.

What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?