If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life

I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us.

And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.

I ask permission to be like everybody else,like the rest of the world and what's more, like anybody else:I beg you, with all my heart,if we are talking about me, since we are talking about me,please resist blasting the trumpet during my visitand resign yourselves to my quiet absence.

How much does a man live, after all?/ Does he live a thousand days, or one only? For a week, or for several centuries?/ How long does a man spend dying?/ What does it mean to say 'for ever'?

And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.