This storm comes not from the sky
but from the stones on the mountain.
It’s the pebbles with good reason.
Perhaps I’ve become a grumpy old man.
It’s a pleasure I never would have guessed,
its rain too gentle to send me inside.
If I contradict myself, I become happy.
If my contradiction stands up,
I am left only with my life’s pebbles.
I have been trying to find them every moment.
It’s best when I don’t know I’m trying.
I’ll stop now, happy to have failed.
deuce coupe 