Language Is The Only Homeland.

Forget The Suffering You Caused Others. Forget The Suffering Others Caused You. The Waters Run And Run, Springs Sparkle And Are Done, You Walk The Earth You Are Forgetting.

It Isn't Pleasant To Surrender To The Hegemony Of A Nation Which Is Still Wild And Primitive, And To Concede The Absolute Superiority Of Its Customs And Institutions, Science And Technology, Literature And Art. Must One Sacrifice So Much In The Name Of The Unity Of Mankind?

I Imagine The Earth When I Am No More: Women's Dresses, Dewy Lilacs, A Song In The Valley. Yet The Books Will Be There On The Shelves, Well Born, Derived From People, But Also From Radiance, Heights.

It's True That What Is Morbid Is Highly Valued Today, And So You May Think That I Am Only Joking Or That I've Devised Just One More Means Of Praising Art With The Help Of Irony.

Leaves Glowing In The Sun, Zealous Hum Of Bumblebees, From Afar, From Somewhere Beyond The River, Echoes Of Lingering Voices And The Unhurried Sounds Of A Hammer Gave Joy Not Only To Me. Before The Five Senses Were Opened, And Earlier Than Any Beginning They Waited, Ready, For All Those Who Would Call Themselves Mortals, So That They Might Praise, As I Do, Life, That Is, Happiness.