I've often lost myself, in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake

Today in my heart a vague trembling of stars and all roses are as white as my pain.

I will always be on the side of those who have nothing and who are not even allowed to enjoy the nothing they have in peace.

I've often lost myself, in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake

As I have not worried to be born, I do not worry to die.

Not for a moment, beautiful aged Walt Whitman, have I failed to see your beard full of butterflies.

I put my head out of my window and see how much the wind’s knife wants to slice it off. On this unseen guillotine, I’ve placed the eyeless head of all my desires.