Question Mark


A journey to the moon Equals my hand in Yours


But madness spies at you And splits Devices of blood


I remain In darkness wide


Always? Anyway


I went where the sea was The harbour was quiet The water silent I gathered my hopes


I went to the woods Cut my fingers Forgot my ropes Dreamt foolish dreams Came Between my fingers


And now I’m back home Pencils and brushes ready for work For my task is a weird one


Alas alas who cares About poetry these days?


19 From Paradise Untold


Come over, you angel you are not as far as you may think


:I can almost touch your limbs with the very tip of my fingers!


clear and perfect little go-between amidst the frost you rush


and boughs bent with snow say nicely "hello" to you


on your way back Home!


E mmaule Le Cm nel a


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