Place gifts of silver in our hands. Give us this day our daily fish.

But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.

I have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics.

with your name on my mouth and a kiss that never broke away from yours.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

So the freshness lives on in a lemon, in the sweet-smelling house of the rind, the proportions, arcane and acerb.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. Now I want them to say what I want to say to you to make you hear as I want you to hear me.