The loneliness
in a tight cubicle
is paralysing
go out instead
where you
at least
can die bleeding
when the scab is torn off the wound
every time one touches another

In this collection, which title may be translated A Tinge of Departure, it is precisely a vague suggestion, that tinge that runs through all the poems. Together with melancholy and grief, this tinge is a vibrant presence on every page that cannot be encumbered with punctuations, capital letters or titles that tell you where a new text commences. It is a swift though demanding hike, but you should never enter the fatal night without a struggle, just as the work's introit suggests in Dylan Thomas' words: do not go gently into that good night/old age should burn and rave at the close of day/rage rage against the dying of the light.