«A weightless breath has not disturbed the frosty air. / Sad freedom plaguing me, I see me rise up there / With cold soft hymns. I want me lost, evaporated / Forever; but to walk I happen to be fated, Along the snowy street — while I can hear dogs bark, / And on this evening hour the west ...»
«Children’s books, you alone I shall trust; / Children’s thoughts, you alone I shall cherish; / All that’s big is to vanish and perish: / Raise me up from deep sadness I must. I’m dead tired of living, and none / Would I take of what life were to grant me, / But my suffering lan...»
«Only to read childrens’ books, / only to love childish things, / throwing away adult things, / rising from saddest looks. I am wearied to death with life. / There’s nothing it has that I want, / but I celebrate my naked earth, / there’s no other world to descant. A plain swing of...»
«To read only children's books, / To cherish only children's thoughts. / All grown-up things to disperse far away, / And to rise from a deep sorrow. I am mortally tired of life, / I accept nothing of it, / But I love my poor earth, / Because I’ve seen no other. I swung myself in a far...»