I spend my life sitting - like an angel br in the hands of a barber - a deeply fluted beer mug br in my fist, belly and neck curved, br a Gambier pipe in my teeth, under the air br swelling with impalpable veils of smoke. br br Like the warm excrements in an old dovecote, br a thousand dreams burn softly inside me, br and at times my sad heart is like sap-wood bled br on by the dark yellow gold of its sweats. br br Then, when I have carefully swallowed my dreams, br I turn, having drunk thirty or forty tankards, br and gather myself together to relieve bitter need: br As sweetly as the Saviour of Hyssops br and of Cedar I piss towards dark skies, br very high and very far; br and receive the approval of the great heliotropes.