Aquarium

those who has so long been submerged in the water of the womb-cave now when the sun rises would they put their lips in action the pantograph the wheat-plants that has been sowed in autumn the shyness of the houses going away farther and farther how much should i become glum for those stations on which i suppose to never put my steps since taking birth the same story of huggis and wrappers i’ve told you to say good bye to the portman full of rust and to make an aquarium for the flying-fishes with the water-moon there may also exist some social forestry mr slumber you can’t keep the good-wishes arranged properly so as soon as the eyes get open the palpitations start