Eve's Dwelling

The sky with the dance of its white clouds has become the ceiling of my room. The walls of my room are green poplars. My mirror, in the heart of the clay jug, is bright and laughing. The clear blue murmurs sing with me the waves of the brook that passes at the foot of my poplars. I: naked in the arms of love in a corner of the world with the whole world wrapped in a sack in a pit...