From the other room a gentle rustling, do you hear? It’s your dream
creeping out from under the pillow. And it’s you, turning from side
to back right now. Outside the window some life goes on,
someone’s running, something’s driving, something is happening. Not our business.
From the room a gentle rustling again. Tonight you’re going to
dream an opera about Italian politics. There’s always something happening,
someone screams, runs away, falls down, and talks, talks, talks.
Look how everything’s swinging, it’s enough to whirl a little
and your labyrinth goes crazy, to jump for a while and neuron tails
get longer. It’s insanely easy.
It’s easier than a happy ending: the three mice
see how they run, sighted and with tails again.