From here the sure beginning of infinity

the * “thou”, as a light sure of its being, opens itself | rising in delight from the womb of musics | unperturbed by the menaces of the powerful | and sets itself in nearness to listen and to speak | leaning in utter peacefulness over the dying brothers | it is impossible that he may not see the stupidity | and cruelty around | but overcomes the temptation to declare the nullity of all | to discover among the shadows of the weary world | a gaze which seeks and unfolds itself. | Happy those, who are ready to leave any heaven of peace happiness and work | at the call of the eternally damned | they have risen to descend below | to bring freedom with the gift of forgiveness beyond hope | and unity: because what is joy | if not togetherness in silence and song? | Oh the freeing of reality, within each act of ours. | At its heralding, we must fly and extend it into the trees | heavy with boughs | even the solitude of stones can be redeemed | the eyes wanted to see more than just objects | in the brotherhood of light, to feel together | give ourselves, while the thought is limpid and alive | as a clear friend among friends | to meet the charm of architectural gardens | and the lyrical vigour of orchestras | the criss-crossed cries of the swallows in June’s sober bloom | and the silent paths into the woods. | There was much more than sensations and memories | the restless body seeking another dimension | and the heart tried to address faithful * “thou”s | unshaken by rejection and absence | and by death’s immobility. | Children know that setting up a game is to transcend | the usual objects.