Jag är alldeles för trött för att tänka, bara rundgång i skallen. Bland annat av detta, som aldrig låter mig vara:
You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl.
Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.