I stand alone on the brink of madness
Like an infant who stands upon a window ledge.
There's no moon in the heavens
No beloved waits in my bed.
And my childhood remote
My old age is remote
My country remote. My countryremote. And I rush to and fro
Like a sightless stream
That has strayed from its course in foul weather.
awic nail I am envious of the nail
That has wooden boards to embrace,
 to it to protect it
Iam envious of the corpses dripping blood
that In the desert lie
For having blackbirds to amuse them
Shrieking out their song for them.