|From the book The Wild Rose|
|Legends and Fantasies|
(1976 - 1978)
|I carry two books, as I go I am leaving,|
but not by the way of bitterness –
but by the road of mercy, the appearance of the rain,
the waiting of meaning to pass.
Both of them are looking, both fly
above me and bring the light:
like a flying chest, like a secret drawer,
the darkness of destiny is open.