To submerge in the ocean without the bottom
and the surface,
to sink in the sea without the beginning
and the end
where the shape and the sens
is only a fiction.
To see blind colours,
to hear the words in comparison to which


people's tongues are only a mumble
and the logic ends with other creations
of defective consciousness.
You don't have to be a shade longing for light.
You don't have to be an unmourned grave,
a night's wilderness,
a lonely river running a death's lane,
a mournful song on lips of the mads,
a scretched wound.
Hide for me the silver of the deepest mirrors.
Hide the jeveles which nobody found.