A world about forgetting

Hope is a luxury. Eternal night in blood

it threatens the imaginary eye with a blind wall.

O fire dark behind you, who first

to kiss so I kiss, I can't remember.

Do I know what I knew? Do I know what I will know:

skeleton lonely lost name

wonderfully attuned to the emptiness he remembers

barrenness of flower and barrenness of winter.

I am an anxious lover of that flower

which lures the sun and emptiness out of me

turns into a nightingale, when different from the world

my face pours and turns me into dust.

But by forgetting I preserved the world and I preserve it

for all time from time and dust

Oh where are those places when the wind blows

and desolation moves? Where is my shy star?

The lowly yearn for a song in vain! I'm reading

on the knees area that opens

in the being in the empty stone where it is hidden

the last star whose brightness does not deceive.