I wrote these lines in little bits
In hours of need, insatiable unrest
In youth’s breaking of my work
In the wider summits of my internal experience

I wrote these lines as a prologue
To all, and to who I would one day become
I trained myself in early youth
To think aloud and ask my soul

In my modest way, what best serves
And pleases the heart, if not the ear
The wish, if not the common day
I undertook philosophy until

Beauty taught me good things to say
I wrote these lines in little bits
At different points in my life
We are all fragments drifting separate
Seeking a perfect language to unify us.