tirsdag 23. februar 2016

And I should raise in the east a glass of water where any-angled light would congregate endlessly...



I do not know what age I am,
I am no mortal age;
I know nothing of women,
Nothing of nothing,
I cannot know nothing,
Unless I walk outside these 
    whiter horn hedges.
I know nothing...



Ingen kommentarer:

Legg inn en kommentar