The nocturnal collage of a non-creative cheese-eater:

1- April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

2- My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

3- The memory of warm days, the now mellow tunes of loss, the far away yet so close smell of death,melons and bodies have been haunting me the whole evening. Memories merge and diverge and all fade into the dead land.

4-Scattered relics, her harmonica, your guitar, his violin, your epitaph....hey Mr. Tambourine man play a song for me, in the jingle-jangle morning I 'll come following you...