July 21st, evening, sitting at the roadside in Ouddorp, Holland
These are my fields,
Fields of wheat, potatoes, vegetables
And flowers planted to be burned for the soil
This is my moon
Bright, round, voluptuous
Only for the sight not for the reach
This is my landscape
Village, country road and windmill
Cutting out of the old paintings and reliving their life just for me
I have traveled this far
Please endow me with a few seconds
To possess what is irrelevant
I will not disturb a single soul
Neither will I steal your myth and secret
But let me smell let me touch
Let me remember the moment inherit the spirit
I swear I will not
Abandon my five thousand years’ debt
And the yellow skin slanted eyes
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