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The rain reveals the hidden names of leaves my heart warm as if washed in blood a new season love cruising in our tiny heart as if in an ocean never touching.

If it were up to me, first thing I’d give up on longing as on sickness. But then I become even sicker, all I can do is depart from myself through a ring of fire, forcibly awake from dream into dream.

And when this happens, instantly I recall the hidden name of my heart, as if it were an orphan. No, even this is too revealing, I’d have to name it a civilian in a long raincoat, when, in fact, its cauterized name is a mad child no one would want in my place, with the self-respect of a wet bird, in a land where all must appear strong and beautiful.

More than anything, I want to heed the true tablet of its commandments, but what can I do, it wants me to expose myself to all, show what’s lacking. Clearly, it drags me to destruction, and I put it to sleep: Sleep, sleep. Witless heart, all or at once you may achieve in death only.