I have a small round hole
In the roof of my old hut
Through which the sunlight becomes
A small full moon in that dark space
As in the first caves and temples
It strays back and forth on the walls
Striking off the seasons
And I have a small round hole
In the back of my head
Through which these thoughts
Like torches come and go
Searching the dark walls
For the lives I've lived
The bright horses of the future
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