I did not say what I should say,
said enough, said too much
too many sentences saying
nothing I had to say
And here I lie beneath the ground
and what I say turns in dust
There is no authority
nothing over me
and still I know
what is moral, what is good
defer to the happiness
abounds.
We are statuesque
in our being,
heads high above the treetops
alive in the air
a layer of ash on the table
and all the trees for twelve miles around
laid down in rows
the lake amplified