I know who you are,
          but I don’t exactly know
          who you are to me, so
do I really know who you are?

I know who I am,
          but I don’t exactly know
          who I am to you,
          nor even who I am to myself, so
do I really know who I am?

I know what I feel,
           but I don’t really know
           what I know about what I feel, so
do I feel what I feel?

I know what I see,
          but I don’t really see
          what I know, so
do I see?

I hear what the world says,
          but I can’t hear
          what I say, so
do I hear anything at all?

I walk my own steps,
          but I don’t know
          where the road ends, so
am I really going anywhere?

I know why the sun sets
and why falls the night,
          but I don't know
          why there isn't another

rosy return      rosy return      rosy return 
                     
          for the mere man, so
is he all about the night
and his life but a dream?

What do I know of the things I know?
What do I see in the world I see?
What do I know of the things I feel?
Where do I walk to if it’s just a dream?

          And if it’s a dream,
          whose dream may it better be?

05/05/2025
Hirondelle