Introduction

- From the old book -

Nothing to be lost
In the cold nights.
Nothing to gain
In the peaceful heights.

Yet I find it amusing
To walk upon the clouds,
Looking everywhere
For strange new mounds

In which I could hide
From the dreadful past
In an eternal slumber
That would be my last.

There I'll dream of her eyes,
And stare upon the deepness of her look.
And discover how cruel are lies
And how bitter are the pages

in this book.