2400 This moment has a weight of stone That holds itself aloof From the landscape of my dailyness, Whose lightness wants no proof. My eye enframes this clouded sky Which seems to stand apart, Yet if seen's the same as seeing, Time's a subtle art.
2379 Your life's residence Was never in its whole But its moment And measure of one arc In memory's spacious round. You abide in the swift Center of the wandering world's Present, past thought's compass That what once was, is still.
2362 Give me the fetter, The sensual tie to the rest of myself That touches what's untouched. Give me the finitude of a self, That prisons an abyss To walk about its edge. I am too young to know How the world changes every day, And the creatures in it, pass away.