J43 http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt1143.htm

Take your reconstructed house, the fragments of your life, and put them in a bag. Sling that bag over your shoulders, and sing songs in a language you do not understand. Wait for a miracle, the way insomniacs long for sleep - but don't be surprised when I give you nightmares. I've promised you monsters and too few kisses, and I always keep my word. It is a sign of love to keep one's promises, and as you fell asleep beneath my wings, it was you who turned away your lips - like this.