an oppressive and tearing memory... i like a damp 
darkness to crawl over. the heart and the mind will get 
shrouded in dampness. there is mud and dampness on dead 
plains, the whirlwinds spin there and winds whistle. my 
dark friend, running away from the warmth, will soar 
again, spreading his crow's wings. to make up under rime, 
in the winter's snow. under deserted expanse, in the 
rotten foliage. look at them! in a boundless blackness 
cattle is crawling, like worms through the grave. in a 
moment the mongrels will devour a part of destiny, stuck 
like a bone in the throat. in the soul there is an 
endless and boundless whirl, the space of night is the 
sleep's deformity, which bounded the minutes of waking 
up. in the fog monstrous mountains of ice began to 
sparkle black.