The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.

Give me, for my life, all lives, give me all the pain of everyone, I'm going to turn it into hope. Give me all the joys, even the most secret, because otherwise how will these things be known? I have to tell them, give me the labors of everyday, for that's what I sing.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

In love, you have loosened yourself like seawater

I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.

The morning is full of storm in the heart of summer. The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye, the wind, travelling, waving them in its hands. The numberless heart of the wind beating above our loving silence. Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees like a language full of wars and songs.

Poetry is an act of peace.