How can you ever tell what's wheat

and what is only gold?

Listen: There is a room in my soul,

its walls are of rusted iron,

and in it a thick beeswax candle

is burning hour by hour; the name

of that buffoon, that incompetent,

that failure of a dog, Tashi,

is written very small,

over and over, on all the walls,

and it covers every inch