A rat crept softly through the vegetation
Dragging its slimy belly on the bank
While I was fishing in the dull canal
On a winter evening round behind the gashouse.
Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck
And on the king my father’s death before him.

The lamp said
Four o'clock
The wind said
Stay in bed
But the wind was waning
At sundown it was a constant gale
The lights flickered and finally failed
Now gusts give way to quiet
Lazy rain dripping at the window
The little lamp spreads a ring on page seventeen:
     The lamp sputtered
     The lamp muttered in the dark
     The lamp hummed:
     Regard the moon
And the gospel begins:
"Your eye is the lamp of your body"