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

I don't know who it is who lives or dies, who rests or wakes, but it is your heart that distributes all the graces of the daybreak in my breast.

In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.

We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.

Love has to be…flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.

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.

The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you.