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The Sufis turn in circles in space
In time
The cloistered monks climb the verticals
Immobile
They travel up and down without embellishment
(They fall from dizziness. ..
They become dizzy...)
The tarantolati crawl towards the rhythm, crushed by timeless space
The wayfarers travel, the losers travel
The losers travel who are most suited to the changes travel His Holiness
The dogs on chains consume the earth in forced paths
Willing to take off for an inert step further away
The idols cover obtuse spaces
They clone militiamen with rhythmic rhythms
/>In synchrony
The wayfarers travel, the losers travel
The losers most suited to the changes travel, His Holiness travels
The wayfarers travel, the losers most suited to the changes travel
The dust travels the wind travels the spring water
The wayfarers travel, the losers most suited to changes travel, His Holiness travels
New anxieties travel and ever new cruelties
They fall from dizziness...
They fall of dizziness...
They fall of dizziness...
They fall of dizziness...