Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.
Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
Traveler's heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
The basis of art is change in the universe.