Then Scale by scale, We strip off The delicacy And eat The peaceful mush Of its green heart.
Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.
The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
On our earth, before writing was invented, before the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That is why we know that poetry is like bread; it should be shared by all, by scholars and by peasants, by all our vast, incredible, extraordinary family of humanity.
In the distance someone is singing.
In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.