to XII from ts of Mag>

        Arise to birther.

        Give me your    of ths

        sown by your sorrows.

        You    return from tone fastnesses.

        You    emerge from subterraime.

        Your rasping voice    e back,

        nor your pierced eyes rise from ts.

        Look at me from th,

        tiller of fields, it shepherd,

        groom of totemic guanacos,

        mason reacherous scaffolding,

        i of Aears,

        jeh crushed fingers,

        farmer anxious among his seedlings,

        potter ed among his clays--

        bring to this new life

        your a buried sorrows.

        Show me your blood and your furrow;

        say to me: here I was sced

        because a gem h

        failed to give up in time its titone.

        Point out to me tumbled,

        to crucify your body.

        Strike ts

        to kindle a lamps, lighe whips

        glued to your    turies

        and ligh your blood.

        I e to speak for your dead mouths.

        t th

        let dead lips gregate,

        out of t to me

        as if I rode at anch you.

        And tell me everytell    by ,

        and link by link, and step by step;

        s hidden away,

        t to my breast, into my hands,

        like a torrent of sunbursts,

        an Amazon of buried jaguars,

        and leave me cry: hours, days and years,

        blind ages, stellar turies.

        And give me silence, give me er, hope.

        Give me truggle, the voloes.

        Let bodies g like mago my body.

        e quickly to my veins and to my mouth.

        Speak through my blood.
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