Ditty of First Desire In the green morning I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening I wanted to be a nightingale. A nightingale. (Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.) In the vivid morning I wanted to be myself. A heart. And at the evening's end I wanted to be my voice. A nightingale. Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.

While the poet wrestles with the horses on his brain and the sculptor wounds his eyes on the hard spark of alabaster, the dancer battles the air around her, air that threatens at any moment to destroy her harmony or to open huge open empty spaces where her rhythm will be annihilated.

Only mystery allows us to live, only mystery.

If I told you the whole story it would never end...What's happened to me has happened to a thousand woman.

I know there is no straight road No straight road in this world Only a giant labyrinth Of intersecting crossroads

In the garden I will die. In the rosebush they will kill me.

The day hunger disappears, the world will see the greatest spiritual explosion humanity has ever seen.