For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.

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.

Under your skin the moon is alive.

Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that's why the clay and the flower, the mud and the roots know your name.

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

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.

I learned about life from life itself, love I learned in a single kiss and could teach no one anything except that I have lived with something in common among men.