When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight?
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
Your house sounds like a train at midday, the wasps buzz, the saucepans sing, the waterfall enumerates the deeds of the dew . . .
The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.