It finished everything, everything exactly.
Nor the relief, nothing more remains.
Having something, light, an opening,
It is not to die, however to live at random.
Not it has any sign, sensation,
No science exists more,
Nor cove, nor another wharf;
Chaos of wanting, of yes, of not.
Still well! It was my desire.
The desire also died,
And I do not know nor if I am same.
Still well! I use to advantage
I try it, I do not question more nothing now:
It does not have certain question, nor made a mistake.
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