I envy people that know love. That have someone who takes them as they are.
There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.
Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed there must be evil.
But to die as lovers may – to die together, so that they may live together.
I was never able to accept anyone else’s support but my own –
If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.
The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods...
If I were dead, I wouldn’t be sad, and I wouldn’t be glad, because I wouldn’t be.
You can speak to me like you haven’t spoken even to yourself.