Love is the gentle smile upon the lips of beauty.
The best love come from the heart, not from the mouth.
Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.
They consider me to have sharp and penetrating vision because I see them through the mesh of a sieve.
Love that is cleansed by tears will remain eternally pure and beautiful.