The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. 

Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed in

I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly

As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.

I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. 

I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses

And my history to the anaesthetist and my body to surgeons.