….a stone, a leaf, an unfolded door; of a stone. And of all the forgotten faces.Which of us has known his lover? Which of us has looked into his heart?Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is forever a stranger and alone? Remembering speechlessly we see the great forgotten languages, the lost lane end….O lost, and by the wind grieved, dear, o piece of my heart, come back again.