In the center of a period I will find fullness,
In fullness — a period.
With boundlessness I will name
A simple iota,
The uncontainable I will gather in an armful.

Now drunk from a droplet of wine
That is called life,
My soul cannot imagine
That it will drink and never be sated

From the ocean of Love.
By the Word and in the Word,
Losing and giving birth,
I accept myself —
Coming to the period,
I begin again.