into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,

insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,

And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,

and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:

to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,

Translated by Robert Bly

underwear, towels and shirts from wh九九藏书ich slow

dirty tears are falling.

no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.

hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,

half frozen, dying of grief.

there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical

into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,

shops,

The only thing I want is to lie still like ston九-九-藏-书-网es or wool.

taking in and thinking, eating every day.

houses

I dont want to go on as a root and a tomb,

Still it would be marvelous

I dont want to go on being a root in the dark,

It would be great

there are mirrors

sobs.

that ought to have wept from shame and terror,

night.

steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

dried up, waterproof, liwww.99lib.netke a swan made of felt

cords.

my rage, forgetting everything,

and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the

Thats why Monday, when it sees me coming

It so happens I am sick of being a man.

The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,

and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,

and my h九*九*藏*书*网air and my shadow.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse

I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic

letting out yells until I died of the cold.

and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,

alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,

I dont want so much misery.

There are sulphur-colored birds, an９９ｌib•ｎetd hideous intestines

with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,

It so happens I am sick of being a man.

and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails

going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,

to go through the streets with a green knife

houses,

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist