I, Donkey driver
I' ve been cycling through time
I' ve brought back the process of thinking in my luggage
Do you hear my blood curdling cries all over the world when I get out of my depths?
Time is taking the starch out of you. Time is delusive.
Time is dreaming empty dreams.

I dream each night and all night and the dreams are drawing me in.
Dreams of broken knowledge coming back from life, Going through the novel back and forth and journeying towards the ever growing knowledge.
You! my dreams, I love you.
I like walking along a mountain crest that is called the border line.

The dream is perhaps that mysterious path where things bound in life are untied in order to be linked to the memory of the other world.
The more I dream, the more I write.
Babbling of voices coming straight from the Babel bazaar.
On the border between the two worlds I dreamt of the Great Lady.