You waste the attention of your eyes, the glittering labour of your hands, and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves of which you’ll taste not a morsel; you are free to slave for others– you are free to make the rich richer. The moment you’re born they plant around you mills that grind … More A Sad State Of Freedom
I like it when you’re silent, for you seem as if you’re gone, and you hear me from afar, and my voice doesn’t touch you. It seems as if your eyes had flown away from you— it seems as if a kiss were sealing shut your mouth. Since each and every thing is brimming with … More I Like It When You’re Silent.