I'll hold the world in one hand.
I will be able to touch it entirely, were it the last thing I do.
With decisive steps I walk along the edges, I walk the corners, I turn between the faces. All mine, as always.
The leaves, the rocks, enter my pockets and keep me company as I whistle.
The sea closes in an ampoule, which, tied to my belt, follows me.
The island is like that pebble that helps me while I cross the river.
The air is the tireless wind that follows my walk.