I do not know what to do, my mind's in two.
Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.
May I write words more naked than flesh, stronger than bone, more resilient than sinew, sensitive than nerve.
Although only breath, words which I command are immortal.
The Moon and Pleiades have set, / Midnight is nigh, / The time is passing, passing, yet / Alone I lie.
What cannot be said will be wept.