Sonata And Destructions After a good deal, after vague leagues, confused about domains, uncertain about territories, accompanied by faint hopes and faithless companies and uneasy dreams, I love the tenacity that still survives in my eyes, I hear in my heart my horseman steps, I bite the dormant fire and the ruined salt, and at night, dark in the atmosphere and fugitive mourning, he who keeps vigil at the edge of camps, the armed traveler of sterile resistances, prisoner amid growing shadows and trembling wings, I feel that I am he, and my arm of stone defends me.