Temples of Inviolate Thoughts I am tired.
Sated with texts, sounds, words. Like a drug I reach for the internet.
To tangle myself awhile in my web. Permit me to switch off,
go online and be lost. In the stifling city
I’d like to let still-living memory rest. Once I used to hide it in empty churches.
In silence – no bells, no monitors. With eyes refreshed,
the soul could afterwards sustain the stress of further slogans.
Vainly today I seek a haven for experiences deceased.
Pressure from all sides – play, spin, write… You float on round coracles in transparent
waters towards the king’s palace and the thoughts
hidden there. The temple of the original
may be entered only in a pair. Inspiration innocently surges
to you from me; I have found peace, I have found myself,
as on the surface of a sea.