If it gives me the right note, I can sing the praises of the crow
feet
changing and changing.
But my favorites are these cool flowers and smiling
their greetings, whose shadows
glow in the dark.
who steals the madness trees?
Who gives the sky violet vapor?
What advice does a sunset to one who follows him?
These and other questions are resolved as follows: divide the scent from
his trip and try to straighten your ear
in the march of a mile. Now the air can restrict its boundaries
two degrees and the result certainly does not wait.
(Meret Oppenheim)
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