Each servant stamps the reader with a look.
The summer demands and takes away too much. /But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives more than it takes
I tried each thing, only some were immortal and free.
How many people came and stayed a certain time, Uttered light or dark speech that became part of you Like light behind windblown fog and sand Filtered and influenced by it, until no part Remains that is surely you.
A yak is a prehistoric cabbage; of that, we can be sure.
Much that is beautiful must be discarded So that we may resemble a taller Impression of ourselves.