Do you hear what the violin says
about longing? The same as the stick.
I was once a green branch in the wind.
We are all far from home.
Language is our caravan bell.
Do not stop anywhere.
The moment you are attracted to a place,
you grow bored with it.
Think of the big moves you have already made,
from a single cell to a human being.
Stay light-footed and keep moving.
Turkish, Arabic, Greek, any tongue
is a wind that was formerly water.
As a breeze carries the ocean inside it,
so within every sentence is,
Return to the source.
A moth does not avoid flame.
The king lives in the city.