Leave me a place underground, a labyrinth,where I can go, when I wish to turn,without eyes, without touch,in the void, to dumb stone,or the finger of shadow.I know that you cannot, no one, no thingcan deliver up that place, or that path,but what can I do with my pitiful passions,if they are no use, on the surfaceof everyday life,if I cannot look to survive,except by dying, going beyond, enteringinto the state, metallic and slumbering,of primeval flame?Leave me a place underground
XXVI From: Las Piedras del Cielo
Pablo Neruda