Who could love like the violin loves its own sound?
Who could shed his own self, to make room for others?..
Who would know how to love, love itself, without wanting anything else?…
The key is turned in ignition… the road slides underneath in all directions…
You feel that you’re moving, but you’re not,
It’s the game of the bearing balls… the ground is spinning impetuously…
I am standing here, still, and numberless shadows spring from me and run into the world
Each one feverishly looking for something, decidedly moments of happiness
They return in the evening, tired and empty handed
It’s time that I leave as well, give my shadows a sort of vacation..
And find out why moments of happiness are so important.. and especially
How much they would charge me..
And If I become a violin while at it, play me,
If I a am…
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