To you is the overflowing future without pupils of the impregnable instant who in its extension to infinity lengthens its silence

 Already thinking without thinking, I want, as is customary, when you look at me as if you were a cornered mouth full of hunger, you will go through an imperative storm of being without foolish doubts in its immobile indecision, now to you is the overflowing future without pupils of the impregnable instant who in its extension to the infinite lengthens its silence