riddled

drunk with the great starry

deciphering

faint, without substance, pure

in search of me. I dont know, I dont know where

shadow perforated,

of someone who knows nothing,

my eyes 九九藏书were blind,

And I, infinitesimal being,

words, nor silence,

or returning alone,

with arrows, fire and flowers,

that fire,

abruptly from the others,

the heavens

of the abyss,

planets,

void,

no they were not voices, they were not

my heart broke loose on the wind.

and something started in my soul,

I九_九_藏_书_网 dont know how or when,

from the branches of night,

had no way

the winding night, the universe.

I wheeled with the stars,

and open,

nonsense,

likeness, image of

and I made my own way九九藏书,

palpitating plantations,

And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived

and it touched me.

mystery,

it came from, from winter or a river.

but from a street I was summoned,

and I wrote the first fhttp://wwｗ.９９ｌib.ｎetaint line,

fever or forgotten wings,

unfastened

and suddenly I saw

felt myself a pure part

I did not know what to say, my mouth

among violent fires

pure wisdom

there I was without a face

with names,