Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress? Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile? Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

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

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

In you is the illusion of each day. You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers. You undermine the horizon with your absence. Eternally in flight like the wave.

To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

I think it was very informative, but a lot still needs to be done.