If They Want Me to Be a Mystic, Fine
If they want me to be a mystic, fine. So I’m a mystic.
I’m a mystic, but only of the body.
My soul is simple; it doesn’t think.
My mysticism consists in not desiring to know,
In living without thinking about it.
I don’t know what Nature is; I sing it.
I live on a hilltop
In a solitary cabin.
And that’s what it’s all about.
(Translated by Edwin Honig)