The Poet Makes Himself A Seer Through

And From That Time On I Bathed In The Poem Of The Sea, Star-infused And Churned Into Milk, Devouring The Green Azures; Where, Entranced In Pallid Flotsam, A Dreaming Drowned Man Sometimes Goes Down.

I Went Out Under The Sky, Muse! And I Was Your Vassal.

Is It In These Bottomless Nights That You Sleep In Exile?

Life Is The Farce Which Everyone Has To Perform.

I Have Stretched Ropes From Steeple To Steeple; Garlands From Window To Window; Golden Chains From Star To Star, And I Dance.