At this mature age

I'm more wide-wisely awake

as well as much more sharp-swordedly narrow-minded

I fully realize the immeasurability of life,

and also take no shit at all anymore,

and don't try to excuse other fools' foolishness,

other mistakers' mistakes

I'm cut in one piece now,

chiseled out of possibility's formless shape;

a wedge among wedges,

giving off the ring of hardened steel hitting raw rock

I'm the soap in the word cleanliness,

I'm minus 30°C in the word heat

I'm a tear of pure rock

in a mind's eye

that never shuts

I'm guiltless blame,

blameless guilt,

among the sordid devices of Creation

that polluts the void