Political poetry is more profoundly emotional than any other-at least as much as love poetry-and cannot be forced because then it becomes vulgar and unacceptable. It is necessary first to pan though all other poetry in order to become a political poet.

I spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

I want to do with you what the spring does with the cherry trees.

Your house sounds like a train at midday, the wasps buzz, the saucepans sing, the waterfall enumerates the deeds of the dew . . .

I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.

I'm not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.