I took a glance at myself,
Like flowers, at the times shining and at the times grim,
Looked for myself among the liquid lights, among the blurry lines of color and gleam.
I Ran after blossoms, after nature, after the essence of it all.
I withered, I bloomed to the growth of a sprout.
We grow, we wither like a wild flower 
in the ground of our house.