I will write a page on happiness
By fearing its background noises
By distrusting its humidity
I will write it at night when the sky
Erases its lifelines
And let the extinguished trees
Raise the volume of the wind
To overpopulate insomnia
I will write the happiness of midnight
The sun is out, the body delighted
Even when the thought
Longer than its shadow
Still exhausted in rush hour
I de I will destroy time itself
His thousand-year calendars
His long-lived novels
Multiplied by alcohol
And the anguish of guilt
Now I am alone
At the solstice of the soul
In the arctic calm
Which follows mourning and torment

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