Como se reparten el sol en el naranjo las naranjas? How do the oranges divide up sunlight in the orange tree?

Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

This time is difficult. Wait for me. We will live it out vividly. Give me your small hand: we will rise and suffer, we will feel, we will rejoice. We are once more the pair who lived in bristling places, in harsh nests in the rock. This time is difficult. Wait for me with a basket, with a shovel, with your shoes and your clothes. Now we need each other, not only for the carnations' sake, not only to look for honey — we need our hands to wash with, to make fire.

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?

Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth.