Ask me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you I speak for the snail. speak of underneathedness and the welcome of mosses, of life that springs up, little lives that pull back and wait for a moment.
The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong; A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains All that man is, All mere complexities, The fury and the mire of human veins.