I have no meaning I can fathom… Life weighs on me… Any emotion is too much for me… Only God knows my heart… What cortèges from my past cause a tedium of unremembered splendours to cradle my nostalgia? And what canopies? what starry sequences? what lilies? what pennants? what stained-glass windows?

What shady path of mystery was followed by our best fantasies, which so vividly remember this world’s trickling waters, cypress trees and boxwoods, and which can find no canopies for their processions except in the fruits of abdication?

..... KALEIDOSCOPE

Don’t speak… You happen too much… If only I didn’t see you… When will you be just a fond memory of mine? How many women you’ll be until that happens! And my having to suppose I can see you is an old bridge no one uses… Yes, this is life. The others have dropped their oars… The cohorts have lost their discipline… The knights left at daybreak with the sound of their lances… Your castles passively waited to be deserted… No wind abandoned the rows of trees on the summit… Useless porticos, hidden silverware, prophetic signs – all of this belongs to vanquished twilights in ancient temples and not to our meeting in this present moment, for there is no reason for lindens to give shade apart from your fingers and their belated gesture…

All the more reason for remote territories… Treaties signed by stained-glass kings… Lilies from religious pictures… Whom is the retinue waiting for?… Where did the lost eagle go?