It is sweet to think I was a companion in an expedition that never ends

Forget the suffering You caused others. Forget the suffering Others caused you. The waters run and run, Springs sparkle and are done, You walk the earth you are forgetting.

The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.

The death of a man is like the fall of a mighty nation That had valiant armies, captains, and prophets, And wealthy ports and ships all over the seas.

When a writer is born into a family, the family is finished.

Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.

Every poet depends upon generations who wrote in his native tongue; he inherits styles and forms elaborated by those who lived before him. At the same time, though, he feels that those old means of expression are not adequate to his own experience.