Step over a month since my last "visit", but read the thoughts of others did not write any, might be for lack of need, perhaps for vagrancy, or resistance, or much else that the truth or even I could name. At issue is that I got bored of me and others or just from inactivity. I'm talking / thinking / writing way too and say nothing.
Well, despite having said more than once and have not met, this time I will be more public and less private with some of the words that exist in me, who knows if I can change the world from another with that. Maybe not, is most likely, but I have a lot to say and if I want to strongly improve life on this earth with what I have time this is a good way to start. I
poems for the next, tomorrow if I can almost certainly on Tuesday. But meanwhile a real text as few, of an author who skillfully managed to capture human nature.
Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
I, Steppenwolf, jog and trot, snow
covers the world,
the raven flaps from the birch, but a hare
never, never a deer.
I so love the deer!
Ah, if found anything!
What they would round between my teeth and my legs,
that's the most beautiful thing I suppose. For the affective
have a good heart,
swallow up the substance of the tender hams,
drink my fill of blood red,
and then howl all night, alone.
to settle me a hare.
The taste of her warm flesh is so sweet at night.
Does everything, everything that can brighten a pinch
life is far from me?
's hair and my tail is dark gray, I can hardly
see with some clarity,
and for years my partner died.
Now I jog and sleep with deer,
jog and dream of rabbits,
hear the wind blow in winter nights, snow
calm my burning throat,
took the devil to my poor soul.
