Chapter XXXIV -Butterfly**

**...

The child of the underworld, of strange words, is asking for a strand of my hair, --what do you want it for? --I ask, disturbed by his request.

--I want to have a piece of you every morning, so I will know that this is not a dream," he says in a soft tone.

--I won't, it's painful," I say in bewilderment.

--Painful? painful is waking up every morning without you, without that scent of jasmine that drives my senses mad; that inspires the world to follow its course.

--Are you going to buy? Or will you go on talking nonsense?

--But, if I'm already in a frenzy, you've got me off balance like this, every blink of an eye you give me is a second of happy life.

--You really must leave if you don't buy anything," I say, so that he stops his "frenzy".

--All right, I'll leave the sparrows and butterflies alone, I'll let them rest. They bring me every word I have to dedicate to you. If you don't want to listen to them, you can offer me a roll of bread, it will be enough.