It must be the down-pouring rain
Or the paralyzing lotus
That forced me into this house
To be captured by the headless Glove.

It was a time out of the Time
While the whens waned to vain;
Durings, the false progenies, all exploded to death
After swallowing their dying mother, While.
As, they are the only piece that brought me back
From        's attack,
But the rain had begun to fall,
Flooding all over, all over...
Memories and fancies not themselves any more,
They mixed up with all that I sense
And cease to occur.
I was a rocking sponge soaking up
Water, moisture, and the like,
Stumbling through the haunted woods,
As fearing that I would another during be.

It was an amazing scene:
From the little ponds created by rain
Springing out tons and tons of delicious lotuses.
Ah! Lotus after the rain!
What a bizarre combination!
I did not feel the need of mouth,
But so strong was that of the eyes and the nose.
"What a beautiful plant.
What a pretty, charming plant.
Who gave you the name that murdered your enchanting scent?
You are too gorgeous to wear a name,
Like offering the clothes to Venus
Will be to profane."
Possess me, so possess me.
Bring me to the place you came.
Both of us need not a name.
Let us dissolve the worldly fame,
And rest in that eternal gloom...

It was the warmth of the grate
That awoke me,
Realizing I was lying naked on the floor.
He was there. I raised my head and saw him,
His name strangely emerging upon my mind.
He sat in a chair near to me, smileless,
Watching, plainly watching,
The door was behind him.
I was captured. Or was I?
I was neither bound, nor immured,
But somehow I did not stand up and leave.
I felt the flame burning in the grate,
And kept pondering.

I am still inside the house,
And I've seen people come and go;
But I myself linger,
For a reason unknown,
In the uncomplicated labyrinth.

--

line7~8: association Cf Edmund Spencer, "The Faerie Queen" (Book 1)