Was this a terror of things. And we work

for that. Noiselessly toiling，

trailing our hopes in the dust

for the birds to follow our meaning

seed. Loam in our heart.

Sky is untouched， but the river

follows the bends of our meaning

obviously. Jumps ahead to the place

—we will be when we come

down to earth

for a final time. Before the beginning.

We have that terror， that hook

at the end of the line. Knowing always.

Dog does not have to bear so much

freedom or pain. Is mere cipher

of line， hook

for this story thats leading. Until

we start back at the end.

This might be a line about water. But what

if its earth. What if all techne， all feeling

is buried in that. And we bury our line

in the river. Cannot but do that

each time. Knowing it

does us no good.

……

Line has caught up with itself

back on itself！ Net has caught

nothing but eyes. A reversal

of fate， that dangerous fugitive line.

Does him no good coming over us

suddenly confident， suddenly

But we know this pattern

it comes from before. Leads

nowhere to dust. Know that

the sunset is tricking us into nostalgia

of good， or our dreaming is not

of our being. But ten thousand times

stronger than now

its debased. Toiling.

Strange notion of good.

& our rhythms， our knowledge

is changing.

Our rhythms are a cause

for their ends which have crossed

the line. Our nets spread，

we have never felt so alive. Cant

believe it is wrong. Cant get over

not seeing our techne debase us，

our stick， beating the blind

that leads

nowhere but dust. Only

back to the start.

……

We look to our

line & compound

that upon dust， eye upon

eye. And the passion we once had

for our living gets wordless

& soulless， our movements，

our wonder， mirrored back

in the ten thousand moments

that make up a life—strange & alive.

這曾是万物的恐惧。我们却为之

奋斗。无声无息地劳作，

在尘埃中，追逐我们的梦想，

希望鸟儿追随我们的意义

种子。沃土在我们心中。

天空未被触及，而河流却

明显顺着我们意义的弯曲

流淌。向前跃至一处

——我们将会，当我们

最后一次

脚踏实地时。在开始之前。

我们感到恐惧，陷入行末

的那个陷阱。始终知晓。

狗不必承受如此多的

自由或痛苦。仅仅是行中

的暗号，故事

不断牵引，引人入胜。直到

我们最后开始回顾。

或许，有一行关于水。然而，若是土，

该如何是好。倘若全部技艺、情感

皆因此被埋藏，又该如何是好。我们埋藏自己的行/线/系

在河流中。不得不每次

如此。心知，这

对我们一无是处。

…………

行/线/系已自我赶上，

自我回顾！网捕捉到的

仅是双眼。命运

反转，那险象环生、瞬间消逝的行/线/系。

对他一无是处，向我们迎面扑来，

顿感自信，出乎意料

然而，我们知道这种图式

它来自从前。前往

无处直至尘土。心知

夕阳正戏弄我们，让我们怀旧

美好事物，或我们并非

梦见自我存在。它虽比现在

强大成千上万倍，

却被贬低。千辛万苦。

善的概念，奇哉，怪哉。

&我们的韵律，我们的知识

在不断变化中。

我们的韵律导致了他们

的终结，我们越过了

底线。我们的网延伸，

从未觉得如此活力四射。无法

相信它是错的。无法忍受

不见自己的技艺贬低自己，

我们的拐杖，敲打着通往

非是别处

而是尘土的“盲”然。仅仅

回到初始。

…………

我们望向自己的

行/线/系&混合物

在尘埃之上，眼叠着

眼。我们对生活曾有过