It’s not easy to write a poem about a poem.
God is a cloud from which rain fell.
In the lie of truth lies the truth.
What we call life is only talk of nature.
Wherever there is somebody else, a war is not far away.
Either all lights are turned off or one inner light is missing.
It is easy to see the glow but hard to recognize the awakening of silence.
Even if you are alone you wage war with yourself.
Faith is a question of eyesight; even the blind can see that.
The light teaches you to convert life into a festive promenade.