Capitolo 20
In every way, and seemed so very hard to explain!
And so we sat and we spoke, not speaking a lot,
But wanting to say as very in silence as in words,
There in that empty room with palms around us,
That private dine-room. . . And as we sat there
I felt my future change, day by day,
With unknown roads that open left and right,
New roads with more distant lights, taller and new houses,
Handed that swing in the atria they filled with light,
Bright windows and opened, with white curtains
Dripping out at night, and sudden music,--
And thinking about this, and through him mean that he/she remembers
A death rapids and horrible, my husband's eyes,
The broken-drunk walls, my dormant boy,--
It seemed as if my brain had stormed two.
My voice started to tremble. . . and when I was standing,
And it told him I have to go, and good-night dictates--
I could not see the end. How would it end?
Would he/she return to-tomorrow? Or is it not able him?
And I wanted him/it to--or it is able me rather
Do you look for another job?--Him taken my shoulders
Among his/her hands, and it looked down in my eyes,
And smiled, and good-night dictates. If he had kissed me,
That would have--well, I don't know; but he didn't do. .
And so I went down from the staircases, then, animate mean,
Hoping to close the door in front of that party
In number four that song should sing again--
'They will turn on soon candles they round off a box with silver handles--
And I certainly, did. I faced the obscurity.
And my eyes were filled with torn wounds. And I was happy.
IX. INTERLUDE
The days, the nights the flow one to the time above of us,
The hours silently go on our lifted faces,
We am as dreamers that walk under of a sea.
Under of tall walls we flow together in the sun.
We sleep, we wake up, we give back, we pursue, we run away.
We soothe to tables and we sip our coffee in the morning,
We read the papers for histories of lust or crime.
The oscillations of door closed behind the last comer.
We put our clocks, respects the time.
What have we done? I close me the eyes, memoirs