for Madlugt here! Rigter fresh Karbonadelugt, since dinner, FYH! And I stood up window, so that the air ud disgust Lugt. Opvarter, half Bif! Turning to the table, this Skrob table, which I had to support with Knæerne, when I wrote, I deeply and bukked spurgte: Dare I spørge, will you drink a glass of wine? Not? I Tangen, Council Tangen. Desværre I have been suffered too late ude. . . . Port lizard. . . .
And uden Tøjler lob my thought on the ladder ud vildsomme Veje. I was stadigt bevidst me, that I spoke usammenhængende, and I said not a word, uden that I heard and understood it. I said to myself, Now speak to usammenhængende again! And I could not, however hjælpe for it. It was like that be the bay and talk in their sleep. Mit Main was let, uden Smærte uden and a Push and Sind mit was Uden Clouds. I sejled afsted, and I did not Modstand.
Come ind! Well, just came ind! As they look, all af Rubin. Ylajali, Ylajali! The red, frothy Silkedivan! How heftigt her spirits! Kys me, beloved! more! more! Your Army is Hvidt Amber, your Mund flare. . . .