YOUR SENTIENT PHONENDOSCOPE-SELF

Lilies: that was all your joy. You gathered every tiny trumpet-flower of last year's lily-ladies with your fragile swan-hands in the brown waterfalls of your chestnut hair, with the gentle touch of falling petals. I looked upon thee with a broken and weak soul, and thou, with thy armour-clad and valiant bearing, as with a selfless remedy, didst wish to heal the burning wounds of my restless heart!

In gentle blessedness the tuft of chocolate on my haloed head, which thy harmony-loving body rested on the oak shoulders of my cliffs, rests in gentle bliss! Thou didst leave thy velvet and earthly heavenly smile upon me: for one eternal moment, and I could be the most balanced man in the world - but for a micro-moment of true all-filling - that thou didst listen with thy all-seeing phonendoscope ears to the lamentations of my morphing heart, hidden in secret half-way,

The lamentations and the longings and the woes of the world! And it was only one magic moment, that I discovered in your two brown shining stars, the underlying contents of the heart, and perhaps of me! Through the shining pearl-myrrhs of thy face, which sorrow had smuggled like a suffocating air on thy heart, I gathered all thy little or tiny pearl-pearls, into the cozy hiding-place of my handkerchief,

and it must have been a million times the merciful and gracious fate of Damocles, that he conjured into my bumpy path one who, even in silence, sees the eclipses of my heartbeat.