From Dreams and Projects
A mechanical doll wearing huge eyeglasses of flesh and blood
looks at himself in a mirth-mirror and weeps.
The butterfly hunter, a skillful and clever man who hunts through
the air with his hat, stops short in astonishment despite his hunter's
luck because he realizes that together with the butterflies his hat has
been cradling the logos, that godly and living reason.
Eyeglasses are in fashion now. Most eggs are wearing glasses.
A cloud changes into a necktie, and the above-mentioned mechanical
doll puts it on.
Fruit attempts to smile, to weep, to hum.
A spherical soul is gradually taking shape in something spherical.
In a pale waiting room a flower performs magic before unseeing eyes
and withered wreaths. She makes the little grow littler and littler,
and in the little's heart she makes the big grow bigger and bigger.
Who is so exuberantly hollering peacock words into the radiant
silence? Who laughs like chalk? Who is enchanted beyond all measure?
A square-shaped man of spring. The glass tongues of his dice never
wither.