Why do we watch so, ceaselessly?
The candle flickers at the window
Anticipating, always, you...
And the search for new words, phrases,
To flatter the ignorant, to melt
A stone-cold heart. You...
You are a man to drive a poet mad
And I could stagger through the streets for you
My coat torn open to the winds
Footprints like wounds in the glistening ice.