“When we pulverize words, what is left is neither mere noise nor arbitrary, pure elements, but still other words, reflections of an invisible and yet indelible representation: this is the myth in which we now transcribe the most obscure and real powers of language.”—Leandro Katz's Lunar Alphabet II / Lunar Sentence II
Wait for me and I’ll return, only wait very hard. Wait when you are filled with sorrow as you watch the yellow rain. Wait when the wind sweeps the snowdrifts. Wait in the sweltering heat. Wait when others have stopped waiting, forgetting their yesterdays. Wait even when from afar no letters come for you. Wait even when others are tired of waiting.
Wait for me and I’ll return, but wait patiently. Wait even when you are told that you should forget. Wait even when my mother and son think I am no more. And when friends sit around the fire drinking to my memory Wait and do not hurry to drink to my memory too.
Wait for me and I’ll return, defying every death. And let those who do not wait say that I was lucky. They will never understand that in the midst of death You with your waiting saved me. Only you and I will know how I survived: It was because you waited as no one else did.
“But as there is in this world not a single human who can speak my language; or, more simply, not a single human who can speak; or even more simply, not a single human; I must think only of myself, of that force which urges me to express myself.”—Vladimir Nabokov's Invitation to a Beheading