I sweep away the beginnings of things and with a new language that has the music of water, the message of fire I light the coming age and stop time in your eyes and wipe away the line that separates time from this single moment. I said nothing to the woman I loved but gathered love's adjectives into as suitcase and fled from all languages. It is as if nothing has happened. Faces, eyes are no different. The courts of Inquisitions reopened and the inspectors, the Don Quixotes, are back with their malignant conclusions.
People laugh because it is past crying.
They laugh because it is beyond tears. And we are content, content with war, with peace, with heat, with cold, content with sterility, with futility, with everything in the Book of Fate in the Heavens. If the audience can be arranged and also my wife safe return, this is what I will tell the Sultan. And your informers every day are those who dog my heels, each step unavoidable as fate. They interrogate my wife at length, and list each friend's name.