We the mortals touch the metals, the wind, the ocean shores, the stones, knowing they will go on, inert or burning, and I was discovering, naming all the these things: it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

White bee, even when you are gone you buzz in my soul You live again in time, slender and silent.

Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

Love is short, but forgetting is long.

The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.

When everything seems to be set to show me off as intelligent, the fool I always keep hidden takes over all that I say.

Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?