If You Forget MeI want you to knowone thing.You know how this is:if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled...
And that's why i have to go backto so many placesthere to find myselfand constantly examine myselfwith no witness but the moonand then whistle with joy,ambling over rocks and clods of earth,
If we were not so single-mindedabout keeping our lives movingand for once could do nothing,perhaps a huge silencemight interrupt this sadnessof never understanding ourselvesand of threatening ourselve...