Todtnauberg

Arnica, eyebright, the draft from the well with the star-die on top, in the Hütte, written in the book —whose name did it record before mine?—, in this book the line about a hope, today, for a thinker's word to come, in the heart, forest sward, unleveled, orchis and orchis, singly, raw exchanges, later, while driving, clearly, he who drives us, the mensch, he also hears it, the half- trod log- trails on the highmoor, humidity, much.