I wanted to bring order to the archive in my head
There I found a paper gravely wrinkled
Forgotten and unread

Long have I denied and altered its appearance
And kept it orderly away from sincere reality
But the unread became known with all its clearance
When the world on the paper opened up in front of me

And the blinding light that paper carried out
Struck me with indefinable surreality
A world that was neither glorious nor proud
But still a part of the archive inside of me