Tof

Lily-of-the-valley, she lay beside you. 

   ”hví svo þrúðgu þú”

I disembark in the unanimous night, spur-of-the-moment stuff;  

þokuhlassi 

no one saw him,

        my hermes.

I hate her intrusions, that one aspect alone of my marital life

explains why I seek you out. 

the barges wash

it was in the sacred mud, but in a few days, the zend language has not been found.

no one saw the bamboo canoe sink.

leprosy is infrequent.

as cool winds der heimat zu,

               wo I had to break away from it because

of her sadistic toll

 270

wide

to tide

Held me in the dawm

contaminated

and where warst du?

the river barges drift

with the turning leeward, swing on the heavy sails.

oil and tar

As the pale wet leaves 

     to know that the taciturn man does better seated in isolation.