Rustling lanes, winding roads
the rippling on the bank
of the path along the river

wherever the land is not buried
under city, I walk my days
in the smell of rotting

Mushrooms, spider webs
birds in the undergrowth
and dearest to me are the wild
flowers, thistles, chicory
pink anemones and poppies

I admire the gaunt, the sallow
the beauty under
the beauty of
the scars, the life
they pass on

I paid it, I swept

it away and forgot it --


for today's new day!

We've only just left
or I'm already longing to return
My life is an unpredictable journey

always on the same roads
The familiar road stations gleam
at a distance, purer than on the spot:

valleys of love, wonder, and knowledge
which I love to visit, and excitedly
      
leave quickly at the ******
of the bells of the caravan
of my needs
      
I wander between their oases
Only in the void do I find
what my soul yearns for

Even when I can't,

I want to participate --


Life doesn't wait, does it?

The dog runs in, slips

on the linoleum floor --


and sniffs at my chair.

Don't be sad, let go

of separation rush, dive --


into a wide life.

I do, yes I do,

but it has to be my way --


otherwise I'll leave.

Whatever reasons

we suggest, we will do it --


mainly for ourselves.

The dying man looks

at me, intense, full of love --


for me, life itself.

Away with strict rules

to prolong my existence --

I keep on Living.