A mind too active is no mind at all.
In the kingdom of bang and blab.
All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
I can hear, underground, that sucking and sobbing, In my veins, in my bones I feel it,- The small water seeping upward, The tight grains parting at last. When sprouts break out, Slippery as fish, I quail, lean to beginnings, sheath-wet.
By daily dying, I have come to be.
Wake the happy words.