Long may I savor your organ meats
and stinky cheeses, endure your pompous
manners, breathe your gentle gardens,
wake up—beyond boredom and daydream—
under your gray skies, smiling politely
at so many dull faces passing me by,
I, who am normally so restrictive,
except in relation to him I once loved
(worn and dangerous now), each day,
kneeling down as some strange energy
penetrates my forehead, I, striving to draw
nearer to you, and to your stones, without nervousness
or regret, as all the beauty of the world
seems to touch my haunches and hooves.