If only the little animal could
understand everything
no questions unanswered
when it dies

It does not live long enough
and flying is the time
of hundred wonderful times
of playing to die, the time

of asking again and again why
thus, this or that, and how
curiously cutting and pasting
knowledge, screaming

and throwing away angrily
lying down exhausted
and cry, but still
starting over once more

rearrange or discard
the half answers
and go looking
for new data

always ask another question
principally blind
full of confidence
that there will be an answer

I do remember
windows, disappeared

somewhere in the invisible
building, outside

the half egg of space
that creates a weak light

in the darkness -
floating dust particles

and a flat floor field
of vibrating spots

in which, bitten, beside a cover
the apple of questioning shines:

what do I see
where am I

in what way is it developing
whither, wherefore, since when

why is this so
and who am I then?

Please behave normally
Let's go out together and
talk about all sorts of things

but not about me
because, when I let you speak
nothing seems to stay in place:

with daring explorations
of questions I don't have yet
you set my thoughts in motion

You drive them apart
and confused I leave you
Please let us be friends